


I am Albus Snape

by Sadsnail



Series: Dumbledore Insert [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Because no one wants Chucky, Chucky but also not Chucky, Crack Treated Seriously, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Snape as a Dad, oc-insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadsnail/pseuds/Sadsnail
Summary: Inserted into Dumbledore and de-aged to a four-year-old child, SI decides to fix it all. Snape is there, playing hapless father to the little eager beaver.— It’s a new year with new fun for the de-aged Insert and there will be PLANS. Ginny needs to be saved from Riddle's diary. More importantly, there’s a birthday on the horizon.
Series: Dumbledore Insert [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579501
Comments: 135
Kudos: 121





	1. It's a new year it’s a new plan.

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Neymovirne for helping to smooth out the crack :)

My name is Albus Snape.

I am a self-insert from a world very much different to the magical Harry Potter universe. Oh, we have magic, but it is nothing like here. Our magic is not something we can manipulate with wands. Our magic works for a very lucky few who are tired of life. If they wish hard enough or suffer long enough (our scientists are still unsure as to the exact formula, or we would be replicating this, don’t believe otherwise), they can escape into a new world. More specifically, into a book world.

What you need to know is that for us, books are just another universe, filtering through our thoughts, urging us to pen it down, to marvel over beings that would never know of our existence. For Inserts, the book world will become their new home, where they will live to the end of their days, unable to return; presumably now content, or at minimum satisfied.

In the past year, I had inserted into Albus Dumbledore, accidentally de-aged myself into a four-year-old, and had been acting ever since as Professor Severus Snape’s illegitimate son to hide this strange turn of fate from the magical world. Especially from the Death Eaters who would love to get their hands on de-aging potions and former Headmasters who were now little weaklings unable to wield a wand.

Last year, I had set the Aurors onto Quirrell.

This year, I was going to save Ginny from the evil diary.

This week, I mean.

No, actually, today.

Hell, I did not intend to spend more than a few minutes on this issue—I had things to learn and places to go and… well magical fun to have. I had a whole summer to plan and I was ready.

At first, I had considered just warning the Weasleys, but after my ‘dream’ about the Ratman standing over Ron’s bed, I was wary. Yes they might have caught Pettigrew and exonerated Black (the man was still stuck in the crazy ward), but now I had an unwanted reputation for precognition, and I had to do some hard and fast explaining to Minerva and Severus. Something I would rather not go through again. There had been tears. This time I was going to do it the Fanfiction Way, and there would not be any crying. Five year olds don’t cry!

Behold my perfect plan.

I would expose the elder Malfoy in the bookstore.

I could do it!

Today was the day!

“Not today,” Severus said, dusting his robe vigorously before slipping it on. Moving purposefully through his bedroom, he gathered his wand, picked up his wallet and tucked a drawer open to search out a handkerchief. “You’re staying home.”

“What?” I tagged after him like a little duckling. Why was I only now learning of this?!

“I’ve already asked Hagrid to look after you.”

“I’m not going to stay with Hagrid! You’re going anyway, so it’s not as if I am asking you a favour. Everyone’s going to be there!” They were. It seemed to be a traditional day for back-to-school shopping and meeting up with your friends.

“Yes, exactly. Everyone and their aunt will be there. I myself have two Muggle-borns to assist and no time for your shenanigans. Hagrid will be your babysitter today, end of discussion.”

“Oh come on! I promised Ginny I would treat her to a bowl of pumpkin ice cream at Fortescue’s, Severus. Would you want me to go back on my promises?” Poor kid didn’t know she was going to get saturated with pumpkin juice in Hogwarts. Myself, I would rather eat snot. In fact there was a troll-snot flavoured one—which most certainly would not have been harvested from trolls—that I wanted to try. I was a hundred percent sure it was just mint. Maybe. Okay, more like forty percent sure. Either way, it looked delightfully green and chunky.

“I am sure Ginevra will understand if you explain to her that I had said no. You had ice cream yesterday, so you might survive also.”

Of all the things I had thought could go wrong, it had not occurred to me that Severus would be the one to obstruct my plans before they could get off the ground. I stomped my foot.

“Don’t even think of throwing a tantrum,” Severus said, narrowing his eyes on me, making my stomach dip. “Go change into your oldest clothes. Poppy said you needed sun, and Hagrid has some gardening planned.” His mouth twisted. “There will be mud.”

“All my clothes are the same age.” I crossed my arms and stuck out my bottom lip. Just because I had enjoyed jumping in mud one day—one!—didn’t make it a thing.

“Wear the green robe that looks like a dragon had puked on it.”

Because it had. I watched Severus warily, trying to look like I had no clue as to what he was talking about.

“Move, Albus, there’s no time to waste, and I do not intend to be late,” he said, and I breathed freely again.

“Oh, _you can’t be late_ , but it’s okay for me to break my promises, is it? You always nag that all my actions reflect back on you—I would have thought you'd be more consistent in your parenting—” I didn’t get any further. He scooped me up and carried me out of his room to dump me on my bed. “Aargh! Don’t do that!”

“I do not nag,” Snape said, moving to my closet. “And it will do you well to check with me before you promise your time.”

“No, wait!”

Too late. He yanked the doors open, and everything I owned tumbled out in a rush to the floor. Which was quite a lot by now. Christmas had given me a haul like no other, the Slytherins trying to outdo the Gryffindors and no one giving enough candy. The tsunami of toys and clothes came to a stop halfway to his knees, and he snatched my prized Golden Snitch up just as it took to the air.

I groaned and flopped back. “Do you know how long it took me to get all that in?! You have to open the door slowly, Dad!” That might not help either. Best was to open it just a crack, stick your arm in and wear whatever you pulled out. Which today had been a light blue robe, luckily a fitting dress to wear to Diagon Alley.

“ _Albus_ …”

“It’s not my fault I have no space!” Oh. I sat up. “You know what? We can go get me a trunk! See? I _have_ to go with you!”

“We are not getting you a trunk.” He slipped his wand out and waved it over the mess. It rattled and clattered, looking very much like a volcano preparing itself to erupt, before taking to the air in a… boring, orderly fashion, floating sedately to their assigned places. While the bookcase filled with subdued thunk-thunk sounds, the toys stacked themselves neatly on the bottom half of my closet, and my clothes flapped quietly to their designated hangers.

“Boring,” I told Snape and flopped back down on my bed, ignoring the green robe he held out.

There’s no such thing as magically spelling clothes on and off, though you had the option to vanish it. I stubbornly refused to change my robe or move an inch, and Severus was left to do it for me. He clicked his tongue in exasperation but manoeuvered my stiff limbs out of the old and into the new robes without turning a sweat.

“Please, Severus!” I begged where I bounced over his shoulder as he marched us to the Floo not five minutes later. “I’ll behave, you won’t even know I was there, you can find Percy, he will watch me!”

“Close your mouth,” he ordered, throwing the sparkling dust into the hearth. “ _Hagrid’s hut!_ ”

“ _Diagon Alley!_ ” I shouted at full volume.

* * *

We stumbled out into a dusty shop. Score one for me! I would have whooped in delight if I wasn’t currently coughing my lungs out, trying not to sick up. The Floo had swirled haphazardly, trying to tug us apart this way and that, and only Severus’s tight grip on me had saved me from being swept off into the multicoloured void.

“I will kill you,” Snape said, turning us back to the fireplace, “long before you kill yourself.”

“Uhm… Help?” a familiar voice squeaked behind us.

Severus swung around, not doing my queasy stomach any favours. “Potter?”

“Hello, Professor Snape,” Harry Potter whispered from behind a dirty display case that held a withered hand. Besides that one was a tall cabinet filled to the brim with a mass of writhing snakes all trying to eat each other. Next to that a display of rotten teeth. Oh. My. God. I clutched at Snape’s robes. Were we in hell?!

“What on earth are you doing here?” Snape stopped to take stock of our surroundings and his grip tightened around me. “ _Albus, don’t touch anything._ ”

“I wasn’t going to!” I pulled my hand away from a shiny locket and gawked instead at the shrunken heads hanging from the ceiling. What was that stink? A year around Severus and his potions meant I could make out most smells by now (believe me, I paid attention, I had a truckload to learn if I did not want to give myself away). This place smelled like a mix of toe gaff, ear wax and boils.

We were the only people in the gloomy, packed room, not even a shopkeeper to be seen. I shivered involuntarily. “I want to go—”

“Shhh!” Harry urged us, his eyes frantic and wide behind his glasses. “We have to hide!”

“We have to do no such thing,” Severus said, sounding as if he had just been told of my latest activity. I kept trying to gauge this one, I figured it to be a mix between exasperation and despair with a sprinkle of resignation that this was his life now. I liked to think I sometimes heard amusement as well, more often of late. “Come out of there, Potter. Where’s the Weasleys, aren’t you supposed to be with them?”

He was. At the beginning of summer, Minerva had boarded him with them and read me the riot act on what suitable Muggles looked like. I spent a week being uselessly angry at the old Dumbledore for the unfair scolding—it wasn’t me, was it! I wouldn’t have left him with Petunia!

“I’ve lost them, sir,” he whispered, not moving an inch.

“Nonsense, you can’t lose that lot even if you tried. Look for red. Admit it, you wandered off.”

He tugged me off his shoulder and down to his chest, shaking me into place. I stuck my nose into his hair. Summer holidays meant no brewing and little grease, and breathing in the familiar melon scent of his shampoo, I found myself relaxing. Severus plucked the unwilling pre-teen from behind the cabinet and made for the exit, his robes billowing theatrically behind him. This was a good sign, he never billowed a robe when worried. This was pure irritation, which meant he didn’t give two figs about that strange thing in the shadows that was looking at us.

“I lost them in the Floo, Professor, I haven't had time yet to wander off,” Harry said, getting some of his spunk back now that he was saved. Being dragged about by the back of his collar seemed not to bother him one whit. “I was trying to get to Diagon Alley, but the Floo spat me out here.”

“Floo’s don’t spit you out,” I, who had so far always been carried through one, told him helpfully. “You have to step out when you see the right one, it’s easy.”

He twisted in Snape’s grip, and his sooty face agog with excitement, he whisper-hissed, “It was my first time. Did you know you can see right into people’s homes?! I saw one lady in a _bath_ —who has a Floo in their bathroom?! Everyone can look in! You’d have to wear clothes when you shower, and she didn’t! She actually smiled and waved at me! Wait until I tell Ron!”

“I didn’t see that one.” I rarely saw people through the swirl of hearths. Mostly the Floo was in an entryway, or parlour, but a bathroom? That sounded like something made up. “Maybe you saw a telly or something.”

More wizard families had televisions than I would have suspected. Severus also had more friends than I had suspected. We had quite the summer visiting everyone who wanted to know about his new son, and I had a great time finding out how the other side lived. I also liked to think I did him proud, being on my best behaviour. Most of the time.

“No, it wasn’t the telly,” Harry told me before turning to Snape. “Why would you have a Floo in the bathroom, Professor?”

“I wouldn’t.” Snape’s arm tightened around me and he coughed to hide a laugh, turning his head to catch my eye in a shared joke. Which old Dumbledore might have gotten. What was funny about a woman in a tub? Was she too poor to put a curtain in front of the Floo? He sighed on seeing my confusion, his mirth disappearing as quickly as it came, and I felt oddly bereft of something that could have been. Something he and old Dumbledore had had as friends, which I would never get to have as his child.

“Come on, Potter. Molly will be delighted to explain all about women in baths.” Snape opened the door, and while a little bell rang above us, he shooed Harry ahead, out of the shop and into a narrow, dark alley. “I have a strict schedule, and I need to take this one to Hagrid still, so don’t dally.”

“Oh please, I’m here already! Let me stay!”

“Not on your life. You’re grounded by the way, in case you wondered.”

Fuck.

“Still having trouble, Severus?” Lucius Malfoy asked from the alleyway, and I could actually hear Severus grind his teeth. “I thought Narcissa had sent a book.”

“Potter.” Mini-Malfoy sneered next to his father. “You look like you were dragged through a garbage bin.”

“Oh? That’s strange, I don’t remember visiting your house.”

“What?” Draco blinked stupidly at him.

“He means your house is a garbage bin, Draco,” I helped the kid out. He was my least favourite of all the Slytherins, and I refused to be babysat by him or even be in a room with him after I had to listen to an hour-long diatribe on how he hated Potter.

“What?!”

“You heard him. Funny that a baby understood it faster than you,” Harry jeered.

“Hey! I’m five!”

Both Snape and Lucius grabbed for their noses—and patience, I presumed—clearly realised they were copying each other, and grabbed the teens instead before it could turn into a brawl.

“Draco—” Lucius started in a warning tone, which I gave him one point for. It didn’t do anything for the thousands I have detracted over the last year though—his son was a brat. The worst sort. I was about to tell him this when Severus decided to end the little interlude.

“I am too busy for this, Lucius. Send my regards to Narcissa. Good day.” Snape yanked Harry aside and marched him to the exit, snapping, “Desist, Potter!” when Harry opened his mouth, most likely not to say nice goodbyes.

“He started it!”

“And I’m ending it. Not one word, and I had better not see this attitude in school.” Severus already had us halfway down the dark alley, the Malfoys still gaping behind.

“Tell him that, sir. What must I do, I’m tired of being bullied!” he complained loudly. Huh. He would never have complained before, even when he really should have. The Weasleys must be good for him.

“I will talk to Arthur to have a word with the Malfoys. You, Potter, can find a way that doesn’t exacerbate it.”

Poor innocent Severus. Bless him. If the books were running true, Arthur would soon be brawling with Lucius, setting a great example on how to handle bullies.

* * *

We walked out of the alley into the wide, sunny main street and nearly crashed into Minerva. Oh for fuck’s sake. I would rather take the Malfoys!

“Severus? Shouldn’t you be in Leeds?”

“Nottingham.” He sighed. “Leeds after. Why do you think anything would go to plan when Albus has a bee in his bonnet, Minerva?”

“I just wanted ice cream.” I thought we were a united front against her! What was he doing telling on me! “You can do your thing, I’m not stopping you—Percy won’t mind watching me.” Especially since it had moved beyond punishment and into a well-paying job.

“You’re Harry Potter…” the boy next to Minerva breathed in awe. He raised an old fashioned camera, and the next moment a flash blinded all of us. When we could see again, it was to find him swooning and Minerva catching him before he could crack his head open on the cobbles. Above me Severus swore viciously under his breath.

“I don’t have time for this.” He set me on my feet. “Albus, you won. Potter, give me your hand.”

“Sir?”

“Your hand, boy.”

He slipped his wand out of his sleeve, picked my hand, and stuck it to Harry’s. The gall! I would have said something was it not for the fact that he might have turned about and taken me home just for that. Severus raised his eyebrows, and I closed my open mouth with a snap. Was he laughing at me?

“Potter. You are to take care of this one until I find you, or if Percy would like to babysit, you may pass him on—the usual rate. Minerva will make sure you get to Molly, and she can unstick you.”

“Really, Severus?” Minerva said. The boy woke in her arms, only to faint again the moment his eyes fell on Harry. I had no need to guess his name. Ignoring this fainting daisy, Minerva glanced from me to Severus and back. I have no clue what she saw but she gave in without a fight. “Oh, all right.”

For a moment Severus stood undecided, towering over us, then pulled a handful of coins from his pocket and stuffed it in my free hand. “Go get ice cream,” he ordered and magicked a handkerchief out of thin air to swipe at my face. “There’s enough to treat the whole Weasley clan if you want. Potter too.”

He moved the handkerchief to Potter’s sooty face. While he sputtered in surprise at being tidied up by his Potions Professor, Colin Creevey woke and fainted a third time.

* * *

It was indeed Colin Creevey. He insisted on introductions, nearly fainting again when he shook Harry’s hand, his camera momentarily forgotten. In the next ten minutes, we learned everything about him and his brother, his father the milkman and their love for all that was magical and most of all Harry Potter.

Minerva finally motivated the Creevey boy to get moving with some dire threats after the fifth photo he had taken of Harry. They were walking a few steps in front of us, Harry and I trying to put as much distance between ourselves and the camera as Minerva allowed.

A year ago it would have felt weird to have my hand stuck in someone’s, but by now I was very used to it. There was a plethora of people who didn’t think a child my age could walk unaided from point A to point B.

“So… how’s living with the Weasley’s?”

“It’s brilliant!” Harry’s clean face shone with joy. “Molly and Arthur said I could call them Mum and Dad, and no one minds! I’m sharing a room with Ron, and everyone is great if you discount Percy—ow! What was that for?” He reached down to rub his ankle that I had just kicked.

“There’s nothing wrong with Percy!”

Ahead of us, Minerva turned around and summed up the situation in an instant. “Albus, what have we said about kicking?”

“Not to. But I am small and it’s my only recourse, so I am going to continue ignoring you. Did you hear what he said about Percy?”

“No, I do not lend my ears to childish prattle.”

“Who’s Percy?” Colin asked, unknowingly interrupting her diatribe that was going to follow my little declaration as sure as night followed day. The kid lived dangerously. Yet another flash blinded us, and through the haze, I could hear Minerva turn her wrath on him.

“Mr. Creevey, what have I said about taking photos of Mr. Potter?”

“Not to, ma’am. But we’re not in school yet, are we? I really-really want to show my brother lots of pictures of Harry. He killed Voldemort!”

I nearly swallowed my tongue, and it hadn’t even been me saying it. Shocked exclamations made us aware of the crowded street around us, and we now had to stop for a quick lesson on what to call You Know Who and why. Once she had Colin Creevey suitably cowed, she gave him a second lecture on why it would not be a good idea ever to ignore her, sending an evil eye my way that promised much of the same at home. I hid behind Harry until she was done. That kid was truly a Gryffindor! Or an idiot.

“What’s wrong with Percy?” I persisted when we were finally on the way again, hissing in a furious whisper, not to attract the Evil Cat’s attention.

“He’s very… proper.”

“Since when is that a bad thing!”

“He always lectures me and Ron!”

I pulled a face. “Maybe you need it.”

“Well, maybe you like that kind of thing, but I don’t.”

I didn’t either, but that didn’t mean Percy was horrid. Done talking to me, Harry made us stop at a Quidditch store, forcing me to wait while he gawked stupidly at the brooms. I closed my ears to his excited explanation on the merits of the Nimbus—what was the deal with this world and its obsession with brooms?—and to get him back, I forced him to wait at that weird doll shop. If I wasn't mistaken, every last creepy doll was still accounted for and unsold, which wasn’t a surprise. Dolls were having tea parties and brawls indiscriminately, and I shuddered seeing Chucky's clone trying to bite the nose off of a pretty little porcelain baby. The baby opened its rosy mouth, and a forked tongue licked Chucky's eyeball. Beside me, Harry gulped. I tried not to look any of them in the eye, ignored the Raggedy Ann blowing kisses at us, and counted to a slow twenty under my breath before I let him move us on.

When we turned around, Minerva and Colin were nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” I said.

“Bugger it,” Harry agreed.

* * *


	2. Blondes everywhere you looked.

The sun was shining bright. All around us shoppers were bustling about, talking of sales. Somewhere else a group of children were laughing and cheering. We stood in the middle of Diagon Alley and fought.

“This is all your fault,” I growled at Harry. “You and your bloody brooms!”

“At least it wasn’t dolls!” He pulled a face.

We tried to shake each other loose, but Snape’s sticking charm held. Severus had locked my wand away in a drawer back home. I could still only do the colouring spell after a whole year of practice, but had now added red and blue to my repertoire besides the muddy brown, neither of which Snape liked for home decor. Even so, if I had my wand, I would have tried it. “Where’s your wand?” I demanded, feeling done with him. “Do a Finite!”

“I don’t have it with me.”

“That’s so stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” he retaliated. To be fair, he immediately looked sorry, even before I teared up. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that, don’t cry!”

“I’m not crying,” I snapped and sniffed the tears back. I considered kicking his ankle, but with my luck, Minerva will come upon us at that exact moment, and there was already a scolding pending on that one. Hmm. Maybe I should kick him if it would solve the problem. No. I’d rather be lost. “I’m not crying, and I don’t care what you think—come on, they’re this way!” I yanked him down the street. The faster someone could free me from this awful boy the better.

And he was a boy. That was the strangest thing. I kept imagining him to be older, more mature, but each time I came upon him, he would do silly kid stuff. Pulling faces and fighting with a five-year-old (My birthday was in one week!) being a good example.

“I’m really sorry.” He followed meekly while we swerved this way and that through the busy crowd. It was good he did, for tiny little me could never tug such a big lump of dead brain cells anywhere. “Everyone in the Burrow talk like that the whole time. I forgot you aren’t a Weasley.”

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk to you.” It was very reminiscent of the time Percy had called me a twat. They both lied. I had dinner at their house twice already with Severus, and no one had insulted anyone else while we were there. I stuck out my chin. “Where’s your wand? You should always have it with you!” I considered asking a passerby to free us, but they were all so bloody tall and busy, no one was paying any attention to us.

“If you were older, you would know about the Trace,” Harry said in a snotty tone. “We’re not allowed to do magic out of school until we’re seventeen—”

“That’s so much rot,” I scoffed. “Percy told me the trace is just for the kids that live between the Muggles.”

Harry said something nasty under his breath. “Okay fine, it’s at home, Mum took it off.”

It took me a moment to remember the ‘Mum’ in question was Molly and not Lily. Two months, and he called her that so easily, while I still only called Snape Dad half the time. I swallowed the jealousy down. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she take it off?” Asshole.

“None of your business.”

“I hate you.”

“Whatever,” Harry Potter sighed, and we marched on in silence. Neither Minerva and Colin, nor the Weasleys were anywhere to be seen. You’d think Colin would have missed his idol by now, or someone would search for the Saviour of Wizardkind. Where the hell were they?!

“Harry Potter! As I live and breathe! I thought I would be seeing you today,” a smarmy voice called from across the street, and we turned hopefully to it. It belonged to the most fascinating person. The man practically _glittered_ , making everybody around him appear dull. Even the colourful shop window he was standing against seemed to pale in his presence. Where the old Dumbledore had cultivated an eye twinkle (which I sometimes did without being aware), this wizard _sparkled_. All over. From his perfectly positioned forget-me-not blue hat and sweeping robes that matched the colour of his eyes, to his golden curls. The effect was blinding, and we gaped awestruck when his smile eclipsed the sun. “You must have been looking all over for me! Well, search no more! Here I am!”

He crossed the street, uncaring of the human traffic that had to make way for him, a whole entourage following on his heels. A short man was waving an old fashioned camera—even larger than Colin’s—around, and a gaggle of women were simpering in his wake. He passed a bag carelessly in their direction to open his arms wide to us. No, to Harry. I was shunted aside when he grabbed Harry’s free hand and shook it heartily. “Oh what a pleasure it is for you to meet me, the great Gilderoy Lockhart! You must be all agog at the news!”

Holy fucking hell! JKR got the man down to a T.

“What news?” Harry said when the man clamped his arm around his shoulders and turned him to the gathering crowd.

“Smile for the camera, Harry!” The next moment a flash went off and thick purple smoke rose to the sky. For once I was spared being blinded, since I was tucked firmly behind Gilderoy Lockhart’s butt. The only thing still keeping me there was the stupid sticking charm of Severus. Wait until I saw him again!

“Excuse me!” I shouted, and kicked at his robes, hoping to connect with bone. Thank God I was there when Minerva decided on the new assistants. At least I could stop his application at the get-go. “Can you move, you’re standing on a child here!”

It was Lockhart’s turn to say ‘What?’ and he turned around. “Oh my! A little urchin!” he called out and scrunched his nose up in disgust at the sight of me, rearing back. “What on earth are you wearing?”

I looked down. Ah yes, my dragon puke robe. Dear Norbert. So it’s a bit spotty, it’s not as if it had holes in it. Nothing wrong with it. “Clothes. Let’s go, Harry!” I tugged on Harry’s hand. If JKR was to be believed, then the next bit won’t be fun. I’d rather be gone.

“Oh, you’ve got a little admirer, Harry. If I can give you a piece of advice,” he lowered his voice, “it is best to just give a quick autograph and shoo them on their way; you don’t want them to turn into stalkers.” He lowered his voice even more. “Especially these types.” Next moment he started tugging at our joined hands. “Off you go, my darling. I know you might not want to wash this hand that touched our Saviour, but he will have to cleanse his. We do not know where you've been.”

Oh, this was precious. I opened my mouth to give him what for but he was faster.

“Dear me. You seem to have gotten stuck.” He pursed his lips. “No matter, I know just the spell, why I’ve struggled with the Ghastly Glue-Slugs in Guam, and you simply need to melt it off!” Gilderoy Lockhart took out his wand and raised our hands higher for the crowd to see. “This unfortunate little urchin seems to have attached himself to our dear Harry Potter! I will now attempt to melt the—”

There was no other recourse open to me. No way was I going to let this man melt the skin off my hands! I’ve seen enough of Moody to know not everything can be healed. I raised up on my toes and bit him. Hard. I dug my little milk teeth into the skin of his wrist with all the might of my jaws. He stopped tugging and let out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp, and I released him to shout: “Run, Harry!”

We ran. My five year old legs (Birthday in one week!) were used to running all over Hogwarts, mostly to hide, and I scarpered off with a surprised Harry in my wake.

“Come back!” Lockhart yodelled after us. “You haven’t heard the news yet! Help! Harry Potter is being abducted!” Behind him the crowd went wild and a camera flashed.

* * *

“It’s just one street,” I whimpered when we finally slowed down to look around. None of the quaint little shops around us seemed familiar. No one had followed us, but I was thinking of the fire that Minerva would soon rain down on my poor little five-year-old head. “We’ll find them if we just walk on.”

“Actually, you’re supposed to stay in one place if you’re lost and let the adults find you,” Harry said.

“We’re not lost. We lost them. There’s a difference!”

“If you say so.”

“What? Are you saying that I’m too _stupid_ to know the difference between—”

“I’m not saying you’re _stupid_ anything. I said I was sorry! Oh God, it’s Malfoy!” Harry hissed, interrupting our tiff at the sight of blond hair, and he yanked me into the nearest shop. The glass door slammed behind us, and we hurried to peer out the dusty window—did no one here believe in washing glass? Malfoy wasn’t anywhere, and we breathed a collective sigh of relief when no one followed us in. The blond hair belonged to a girl, though, and this time I did kick his ankle.

“Ow! Bloody hell!” He danced out of reach. “Stop that—I will tell your dad!”

“Well, I will tell Molly you called me stupid!”

“I said I was sorry!” He ground out through clenched teeth. “And you should call people older than you Mrs. Weasley!”

Oh, this was fun! “What, everyone? Who’s stupid now! People have their own names!”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“What have we got here?” someone sang from within the gloomy shop, interrupting our fight, and we huddled together.

“Come to read your fortunes, little ones?” another asked directly behind us in a weird mechanical voice. Her question ended in a screech that was ten times worse than chalk on a blackboard.

Holy Mother of—I did not clutch Potter’s hand. Okay fine, I clutched Potter’s hand and tried to climb him like a tree. We stumbled and bumped into each other in our rush to twist around, hampered by our stuck hands, each going the wrong way at first. Laurel and Hardy couldn’t have done it better.

When we finally got it right, we came face to face with a witch. She had everything. The pointy hat, the multiple layers of clothes, a wart on her large hooked nose, wrinkled crone like face, and she was even holding a broom. She also stood motionless, her glittering black eyes staring at something behind us. Help!

“Oh dear, don’t mind her. I got her in Tokyo to help in the shop,” the owner of the first voice sang, floating over. The complete opposite of the scary one, she was dressed in a hot pink pantsuit and had her butter-blonde hair up in old-fashioned ringlets. She looked to be twenty despite speaking like everyone’s grandma. “Robots are lovely if you need to lift something in my condition, but oh dear, possess them one time too many, and they do nothing but bother the customers. This one thinks she can tell fortunes!” The ghost laughed, a tinkling sound that rang through the small shop, the merry sound oddly jarring in the doom and gloom.

“Why are all the shops so _gloomy_?” my mouth asked before I could stop it. 

“Albus!” Harry hissed, squeezing my hand, and the Gryffindor in him tried to tuck me in behind him.

“I do not know about the others, dear, but I have too many crystal orbs lying about, just waiting to catch a stray sunbeam.”

“...”

“They are a fire risk.”

Yeah, okay, that made sense.

She beamed at us herself. “That’s how I got this way. Goodness, it was such a fuss, I only had the shop for one day too, how silly of me.” She laughed. “Well, you die and learn.”

She seemed too happy for me to feel sorry for her, telling of her untimely demise as if it was a great big joke. I had no clue what to do, and Harry seemed to have a similar problem.

“Uhm...” he said.

“Octavia Binns at your service.” The ghost introduced herself with a little curtsy. “Now what will it be today, taking Divination, are you? The standard glass ball will do for a start. If you come this way…” she floated off. 

We followed, nervously skirting around the strange robot.

“You must excuse me if I don’t possess her, I’d rather wait until we fixed her voice box... awful headache... ah, here we are.”

We excused her. I certainly could live a long and happy life without having to see a ghost possess scary robotic witches. Globes of every size and colour filled the racks. Tarot cards lined another case, and a nearby table displayed delicate tea cups.

She pointed at the nearest globe and proceeded to talk our ears off. We learned that the Celtic Druids were the first to gaze into the future, and she gave us an impromptu lesson on how a clear quartz ball in the living room soothed a house with many arguments, winking at us as she said so. Then babbled happily about the variety of crystal balls on the market: clear quartz, rose quartz, smoky quartz, citrine, black obsidian, and amethyst, she listed them off, and did not let us get a word in edgewise. Being a ghost, she didn’t need to pause for a breath once.

“We’re not here to buy crystal balls,” Harry shouted after we had a good look at her wares, yelling desperately over her indepth explanation on the health benefits of Transcendental Meditation. “Divination is in our third year, Percy said, and we are thinking to take it, just not now It’s easy, right?”

“As easy as eating pie through a straw,” she nodded with a smile. My stomach rumbled on cue. “Hungry one, are you? Would you like some tea? Only you will have to make it yourself.”

“No thanks,” Harry said just as I was about to accept. “We’ve got to get going.” He started tugging me to the door. “You have a really nice shop!”

“Perhaps you’d like me to read your fortune, only two knuts each, it’s the best rates in the Alley!”

This time I was the one tugging at Harry to move. Sybill Trelawney had a habit of eyeing me weirdly, and I did not need to be exposed as an Insert. Who knew what these women could find out!

In our bid to escape, we backed ourselves right into the robot. She let out an ear-splitting sound just as I touched her and spun her head right around like a demon-possessed toy. Her black eyes rolled back into her head, leaving slits of white, and her jaw hinged open.

“ _Two souls into one, unsundered_ ,” the mechanical witch boomed and screeched. “ _Beware of the written word… Two souls into one, unsundered! Dark days will follow! Death shall come to one! Beware of the—_ ”

Octavia Binns disappeared into the lifelike witch, bringing her to a sudden stop. 

My ears rang.

“Oh dear me,” she said, her tinkling voice sounding strange coming from the robotic mouth, “which one of you touched her? We have to call the Unspeakables—”

That’s it. I had enough. Fuck this. I was going to barf. “Lady. Our hands are literally glued together.” I held up Harry’s hand and shook it as proof. “Two souls. And Minerva will throw a fit if we don’t find them soon, so good job on the dark days. I’m pretty sure we’re all going to die, so tell me something I don’t already know! How about something useful like where to find the Weasleys?!”

“Two doors down to the left, dear. No need to shout.”

I shivered and pressed closer to Harry’s side.

“How?!”

“I saw them pass by earlier. You can’t miss all that red.”

We fled the shop as one. Outside the sun hit us full force, bright colours assaulted my eyes, and someone told us to watch our step. It felt like we've entered another world.

“What was that?” Harry asked, his white face awestruck.

“Magical fuckery. _Can we go find the bloody Weasleys now?!_ ”

* * *


	3. Have some books.

“A robot can’t make prophecies,” Percy said with the full wisdom of his sixteen years. We had only found him, browsing in the secondhand bookshop two doors down, but that was good enough for me. He made the shopkeeper free our hands, paid for his books, and took us to a small Lebanese diner across the road to have some fortifying tea. There he listened patiently to Harry’s recounting of our experiences, all while allowing me to sit on his lap and cling like a barnacle. “I agree with Albus, it all sounds very generic.”

“You should have seen her, Percy!” Harry persisted. “She freaked out!”

“I know that shop. I brought my orbuculum there. She’s no diviner, she just sells the stuff.”

“Your what?” Harry asked before I could.

“My crystal ball. Don’t go for the glass one, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Ginny had her fortune read there once. You know what she told her? She would marry Harry Potter and have three kids, and get this, one of them will be named Albus Severus—”

The hair on my neck rose.

“I would never!” Harry shouted.

“Well, you can’t now that she’s practically your sister anyway,” Percy said unperturbed.

“So she can really tell the future?” I interrupted.

“No, I’ve just told you she says nonsense. I ask you, how can you see actual names in a teacup? Do the leaves spell it out? You’d need Hagrid’s mug to fit it all in. Besides, you said this was the robot talking.”

It was all too confusing. I concentrated on the easier issue. “How do you know about robots?”

“Harry took us to see Muggle movies. There’s this movie called Star Wars that has robots, but they call them droids. C-3PO and R2-D2, it’s amazing.” He suddenly sniggered. “We can now cast lightsaber lasers that actually cut through stuff. Mum locked up all our wands, even Dad’s.”

A year around the group of brothers in Gryffindor had given me enough experience to picture the destruction, and I felt sympathy for Molly. Our food came, floating unaided from the kitchen, and Percy tried to get me to sit in my own chair, but I refused. I had had a harrowing morning; I was tired, had been scared out of my wits, and wanted nothing more than to be hugged and told that everything would be all right. By now Percy was well able to do these when Severus wasn’t available. He did not fuss. He only settled his plate next to mine and ate his chips with his free hand, his other around me. Harry needed no encouragement to leave the conversation for his food, and I joined him in falling on the Falafel sandwich as if it was our first meal of the day. British fare was good, but the boarding school sorely lacked the variety that Severus and I had enjoyed this summer, and school was going to start soon.

* * *

By asking very pitifully, with practiced wide-eyes, I got Percy to take us to Sugar Plum’s Sweets Shop before meeting up with the rest. Minerva was going to give me hell whether we went now or later, and it was better to do this before she or Severus tried to deny it as punishment. They kept forgetting my actual age. I honestly didn’t understand it.

Sugar Plums was a little purple corner shop, and by now I had a Pavlovian response to the colour. My mouth watered even before we entered, and I was the first through the door.

“Why, if it isn’t my favourite little customer!” the proprietress called, moving out from behind the counter with a broad smile on her plump face. “Just this mornin’ I’ve been telling my Johnny it’s been a long time since we’ve seen you.”

It had been two weeks. Severus had been surprisingly good at catering to my sugary whims this summer, so much that I might become spoiled soon. I’d been here so often that I knew her whole inventory by heart.

“We went to France,” I explained my absence. “They put salt on their caramel! It’s awful!” I told her and got a sympathetic click of the tongue. “But their Nougat!” Their Rose Petal Nougat was to die for—even if it gave you two neon pink circles on your cheeks—and I told her in detail about every sweet I ate over the two weeks we spent in France with Severus’s cousins.

He had a whole slew of relatives in France, and an Uncle in Belgium. He also had the requisite screwy Aunt that wore a colander on her head and believed the aliens were already among us. I actually liked her. Severus hadn’t told anyone that I wasn’t really his child, and I don’t know what they said to him in private, but they treated me like family.

She gave me a bottomless bag, and I stocked up.

“Having a party, dear?”

“School starts in two weeks,” I told her, munching on a liquorice wand, its magic sparkling on my fast blackening tongue. One thing about wizarding sweets, you could rarely keep it secret when you indulged. “Best to be sure.”

* * *

Stocked up on candy, we had no other option but to go meet the rest at the bookstore. I figured Minerva would be in that area with her charge, but if not, then Molly would get me home.

Flourish and Blotts was a hive of activity. Luckily Percy had had a growth spurt this summer, so he guided us through the crowd to where he could see his family. “Mum!”

“Oh, there you are, Percy!” Molly sounded frazzled and looked it. Her face had a red sheen and her hair stuck out in every direction. “You’ve found them!”

“They found me,” Percy told her. “They were quite smart in it.”

She stuck her arms in her sides and looked from Harry to me and back. “Your dad had passed by twice already to see where you were, and dear Minerva has been in quite a fuss.”

I bet she was.

“What exactly have you two been up to?” Molly asked.

“It’s my fault,” Percy said, stepping up. He had promised to take the heat and delivered. “I brought them tea and took Albus to get some sweets.”

“Sweets!” she snapped, and I cringed away from her volume. “Oh no dear, I am not upset at you,” she told me, “you were not in charge, you are only four.”

Five. Well, in a week. But this was definitely not the time to tell her that. The point became moot as Minerva chose that moment to appear. Unlike Molly, she had no qualms about taking me to task. “Albus Snape! Your father has been worried sick!”

“He has?”

“He has! Thank you, Molly, I will take this one,” Minerva said, took my hand, and started pulling me aside.

“That’s him! That’s the child abductor!” someone shouted. We turned to see Lockhart point a pampered finger right at me. “Professor McGonagall has caught him!” A camera flashed and we stood blinded. I was starting to hate cameras! Unfortunately, it did not make us deaf also, and we had to listen to his jodeling. “She must have read my chapter on how to catch a Wilful Willybug. To think, this amazing woman will have the pleasure of being my Deputy Headmistress!”

What? I blinked my vision back to find that a crowd had gathered to stare at us. Gilderoy’s finger was still waving in my face when he continued, “Call the Aurors!”

No one called the Aurors. In fact, no one moved. Somewhere in the crowd, a woman exclaimed, “But he’s only a baby!”

I was five!

“Aurors!” Gilderoy sang out. This was starting to be ridiculous. Did he expect them to appear like magic—oh, okay, maybe he did. I’ve learned a lot in this last year, but there was always something new around the corner. I squashed myself into Minerva’s side just in case the Madam Bones or her Magical Swat Team were going to pop up and drag me away.

“What utter nonsense!” Minerva snapped. “He is four!”

Five!

“He bit me!” Gilderoy countered.

“That part I can believe,” Minerva said under her breath. Out loud it was another story. “I am sure he had good reason. What I do not understand is this nonsense you’re spouting. Who exactly abducted who?”

“This little urchin, this street-rat, glued himself to our Savior and ran off with him!”

Her face wobbled. Her voice turned shrill. “ _This little urchin_ is Professor Snape’s son!”

Gilderoy’s expertly plucked eyebrows rose sky high and he looked dumbfounded from her to me. “Oh my goodness. _Are they poor?_ ”

“Excuse me?” she asked in such a tone, that I, Lockhart, and half of the crowd quaked as one in our boots.

He lowered his voice and leaned in to hiss in a stage-whisper, “ _Are we not paid well? I thought the stipend was adequate, but if we’re not going to be able to afford decent clothes? He looks like he’s been through the maws of a Horntail!_ ”

Idiot! It was a Norwegian Ridgeback. Really, the man knew nothing! I sprang forward to kick at his ankles, but Minerva pulled me back before I could get half-way.

“Of all the—I assure you that none of the teachers are poor!” she sputtered. Around us the crowd tittered, and she straightened her back. “I honestly don’t have time for this! Excuse us!”

Minerva hurried me away from the man and his crowd to a people-free corner. There she cast a Muffling Charm on us and crossed her arms. We could still hear the crowd clearly, but all they would hear from us was an unintelligible buzz.

“What have you been up to?! I turn around, and you were nowhere to be seen, Albus Snape! When will you realise that we worry about you, that you are too small to be safe—”

Behind her, it was Harry’s turn to be accosted by Lockhart. The wizard swept Molly aside to give him a stack of books, expounding something about ‘supplemental reading’, before grabbing him and posing them both for the camera. My ears were still buzzing from Lockhart’s revelation. _He was going to teach at Hogwarts._ I had done nothing to stop that from happening. I had thought I had some say still in what was planned in the school, but it seemed not.

I crossed my arms also, copying her, and glared at Minerva who was still scolding. Too bad. Closing my ears I paid her no attention.

“Albus, are you even listening to me?” Minerva asked.

“No. I’m not.”

“Albus!” Minerva called, shocked. “What on earth has gotten into you!”

“You are asking? Fine! Why should I listen to you if you ignore me?”

She reared back in honest surprise. “When have I ever done that?”

“You went against my express wishes to employ this— _that idiot!_ ”

“Alastor needed an assistant, and he was our only option. What else could I have done?”

“You’re telling me, in the whole of Britain there was only one applicant!?”

“Yes.” She pursed her lips, her tone turning acerbic. “I believe I mentioned this before, but you were busy with your cake.”

It sounded like something that might have happened. The cake part. The rest was just preposterous. I told her just that.

Minerva sighed. “Albus, I know he's a little bit of a dandy and… high-strung, certainly, but that doesn’t make him a bad wizard.”

“Oh?” I told her about our little funfest in the street. “He nearly melted our hands!”

“You don’t know that. I agree it seems like overkill when a simple Finite would do, but he hadn’t actually melted anything before you bit him—”

“Minerva, the man is a charlatan!” There was nothing for it, I had to tell her. “Not one thing in his books are true! He obliviated the actual witches and wizards and took credit for their actions!”

She sighed. “Really, Albus, if you knew this, why haven’t you exposed him before?”

Fuck. Think! “I had no evidence!” I dearly hoped old Dumbledore had no clue about Gilderoy’s lies. “Does that matter? We can get the Aurors to investigate him, and you will see.”

“I don’t think so, Albus. It would reflect very badly on the school if we wrongly accused him, and I would be the one having to do it while you’re off playing hide-and-seek. I will inform Alastor of your suspicions and let him keep his eyes on the man.”

This woman was infuriating. I could literally feel my blood boil. I stomped my foot and bunched my fists and _glared at her_. And her hair turned green.

* * *

Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy chose that moment to come to blows.

“Please-please! Not here!” a short wizard pleaded, rushing with waving arms to stop them.

“How dare you!” mild-mannered Arthur roared, and proceeded to throw himself at Lucius. They stumbled into a row, sending books raining down on people’s heads.

“I’m begging you!” The manager danced around them. “Not inside!”

* * *

Oh God. If they were fighting already, then the diary must be in Ginny’s cauldron, and Minerva’s scolding had prevented me from getting it. Infuriating woman! This was the worst day yet!

“Albus—” Minerva started, but I was done listening.

“Fine! Whatever! Do whatever you want, I can’t stop you, can I! Just don’t blame me if the idiot kills a student!” I snapped at her, decidedly not looking at her hair. “Are you done with me? I need to go talk to Ginny.”

At the opposite end of the shop, the two combatants were being shoved outside, purple swirls of the manager's magic pushing them on. The rest of the Weasley’s followed in their wake, herded by their mum, Harry buckling under an armload of Gilderoy Lockhart’s books.

If I didn’t get the diary now, Ginny would have two whole weeks with it, doing God knows what. I was not going to let this happen to the girl who had tried to fly a car for me.

Not waiting for her answer, I left Minerva standing flabbergasted behind and rushed to follow the group out.

* * *

Outside I ran right into Snape. _Oh for fuck’s sake!_ He scooped me up into his arms, an action by now as natural to us as breathing.

“Where are you going in such a rush?”

“Ginny!” I shouted inanely.

“Still?” Instead of letting me go, he turned to the Weasleys. Malfoy and mini-Malfoy were storming off and in front of Arthur, Molly seemed to be taking a deep breath. Two guesses why.

“Arthur!” Severus interrupted Molly’s tirade before it could start. “If you are done there, we would like to invite your lot for ice cream.”

“I don’t think now is wise,” Arthur said with a wary eye on his wife, surreptitiously shaking his bruised hand. “Perhaps another—”

“Nonsense,” Snape said. “I have two Muggle families who would love to see that the Wizarding World is not only foolish wand-waving but has some sensible people as well. This only applies to Molly, I’m afraid, but I will suffer the rest of you if I must.”

His little joke smoothed Molly’s ruffled feathers, just as he intended, I am sure. She let out her breath in a defeated sigh.

Not to be outdone, Fred—or George—protested, “Here now, don’t forget Proper Percy, sir.”

While Percy cuffed his sibling, Snape stood aside and introduced his charges. I had forgotten all about them. Standing behind him were two fresh faced eleven-year-old girls and their parents. All were wide-eyed and brimming with excitement, with perhaps an added mixture of worry on the parent’s side, if I were to judge by the way they bunched together.

“It is a tradition that we take new students to ice cream at the end of the day,” Severus told them, encouraging. “My son had been looking forward to the Goblin Snot.”

Someone gagged.

“Tricky Thick Troll Snot, sir, and it's just mint flavours with chocolate pieces,” Percy corrected him, then blushed beet red and tried to disappear behind his Mum when his siblings jeered. He was way too tall for that but didn’t let that stop him.

Molly, ever ready to be supportive, took the group under her wing. Calling Ginny to meet the girls, she hustled us to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, all the way back to where Harry and I had found Percy.

Severus lagged behind the large, noisy group, still carrying me. “I swear, this gets more exhausting every year.”

“You seem to manage fine,” I told him absently, straining to peer into Ginevra Weasley’s swinging cauldron, searching for the diary—it was a simple black book, right? She swung her cauldron in a high arc, happily chatting away with the two girls who was going to be her year mates, and I finally got a good look.

It was empty!

We filled Florean’s Parlour nearly to the brim, and the man had a good time dispensing all the orders. Bowls and spoons flew through the parlour, twirling in an intricate dance in time to the music from his wireless. Severus plucked his own bowl out of the air with a lightning quick roll of his eyes, but the Muggle families were not so blasé. Their ooh’s and aah’s made for extra theatrics, gumdrops and colourful sprinkles forming a rainbow over their heads.

Minerva came with Colin. Leaving the boy at Ginny’s table, she fell down with a sigh next to Severus. “This day has been much too long.”

Still incensed with her, I took up my bowl and slid off Severus’s lap to go join Percy, Harry and Ron. Harry was telling Ron all about the naked woman in the Floo, both of them giggling and snorting. Behind me, Snape asked Minerva if she was aware that her hair was now green.

“I still have your sweets,” Percy told me, scooting over to make place. “Do you want them now?”

“Later,” I told him dejectedly and sulked over my minty ice cream. This had been the worst day ever. All the fuss, and I didn’t even have the diary to show for it. Why had I even bothered to get out of bed?

“I know just what will cheer you up,” Harry said and pushed the stack of Gilderoy’s books across the table to me. “Here, you can have them all. It’s not as if we need to buy them anyway. He’s only going to be the bloody assistant.”

I nearly killed him.

I wanted a nap.

* * *


	4. Meet my Nemesis

“Accidental magic,” Severus said on reaching home. We stepped through Diagon Alley to the Headmaster’s Floo, the only one with access to the outside, turned around and stepped back again through it to our rooms. “Congratulations, Albus, you’re a wizard.”

“Funny.” I was still sulking about my miserable morning, and not at all ready to be joked with.

“We should be fine if you can manage to control your temper.” He dropped me unceremoniously down onto our couch, and my packages much more gently on the floor. “If you recall, I am not of the camp that believes accidental magic causes temper tantrums, I expect you to behave.”

I kept quiet. I recalled nothing of the sort, but have heard of this theory over the summer. One of his little nieces had started her own bouts of accidental magic and her mother kept excusing her behaviour as caused by the unstable magic and not the other way around.

Irritable Snape or not, it was a relief to be back home. The rooms might have started off on the austere side, but after months of rubbing shoulders with me he had given up on expecting everything to be in its place. Cozy blankets now hung over the armrests, ready to be tucked around sleepy bodies. A large magical window broke the gloom, bringing in mellow sunlight during the day and the fire brought welcome warmth. The coffee table presently held a mixture of his correspondence, an empty plate and the puzzle that I had started the night before.

“Kicking and biting?” Snape asked, moving our paraphernalia to the side. He set an inkpot and quill on the low coffee table and Accio’d parchment from his office. “I thought you were done with that.”

“I had a bad day.” I eyed the gathered writing equipment with growing disgust. Beware of the written word, indeed. Snape called it Writing Exercises.

“Do you want to discuss it?”

“No.” Minerva had told him all, I had nothing more to say. I might tell him about the prophecy but still needed to mull it over myself. The ‘two souls’ part was worrisome.

He sighed and started removing his robe. I didn’t mind mine, for me robes were but a different kind of dress, but in our quarters he liked to relax without extraneous outerwear. Under it he wore simple black trousers and button-up shirt. He sent the robe with a flick of his wand to his bedroom before kneeling down to divest me of my boots, not waiting for me to do it myself.

“A letter of apology to both Harry and our new Defence of the Dark Arts Assistant, if you please,” he said, nodding to the table.

I gnashed my teeth and clenched my fists. “Fine.”

We’ve been through this before, it was either I apologise or he would do it for me, in which case there would be no treats for a month. A whole month! He could not physically make me write anything without resorting to a forbidden curse, but leaving no candy in my reach was as easy as chopping a slug. There was no contest.

“Lose the mood,” Snape suggested. “You’ve brought this on yourself. My day hasn’t been one of pleasure either,” he continued mildly as if discussing the weather, straightening up to tower over me. “Starting with you nearly killing yourself in the Floo system.” Another flick of his wand and my boots followed the direction of his robe. I very wisely kept quiet. A shouting Snape was angry, a mild Snape was furious and needed careful handling. “Do you want to tell me what that was about? I don’t for one moment believe that you would have jeopardized our lives just for ice cream.”

“No.”

I’ve thought of this. I had no idea how to explain away my knowledge of the diary without exposing myself. If only I had Dumbledore’s memories I could maybe patch up some halfway believable excuse, but nowhere have I been so lucky yet. I could not even give Minerva concrete evidence on Lockhart and now we were stuck with that idiot.

Severus clicked his tongue. “I am very sure you have enough adult thought left in that head of yours to have been able to choose a different option had you wanted to.” He paused, then quietly pushed a knife into my sorry little heart: “Not only am I primarily responsible for your safety, but I do care for you. Spend some thought on how I would have felt had I lost you there.”

Oh, that was harsh.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“No,” I repeated to the floor, my throat tight. I’ve already apologised. I was willing to apologise a hundred times more, but feared I might cry if I said another word.

“Then you are still grounded for the rest of the week. Get to it, please.” He narrowed his eyes in warning. “And if I find that I have any green hair or, Merlin forbid, warts on my nose, then I will add to it.”

I obediently slid down to the carpet, and kneeling next to the low table picked up the quill. He only waited long enough to see me active before he retreated to his office.

* * *

By the second letter it sunk in. I had made Minerva’s hair green. Oh my God, if I practiced from now, I might be able to do wandless magic. I didn’t have to wait until I was eleven, did I!

Excited to get a start on it, I nearly rushed the apology before I remembered legibility was something he insisted on or I would have to do it over. Taking deep, calming breaths, I gritted my teeth and completed it with my best penmanship. Which still tended to look like a child’s, all large loopy letters to accomodate my untrained little muscles.

Sad to say, I had done enough of these letters this last year that some people might have a collection by now, so I knew the format he expected by heart. Admit to having done wrong, state the exact offense. Sincere apologies, not I am only saying sorry because my dad made me. Promise to refrain from repeating the offense.

It was hard to write this to Harry as I had visions of him and Ron laughing over it. Tucking it into an envelope, I wrote on the outside: _“To Harry Potter, The Burrow, Read in Private or DIE!”_

It was nearly impossible to write an apology to Lockhart without blaming him for the whole biting incident. Minerva was right, he hadn’t had time to cast a spell, it could have ended up being a plain Finite. I might have jumped to conclusions there. According to Minerva he might not have jumped in turn to accusing me of being a kidnapper either, had I behaved less like a ‘little cretin’. I doubted it.

I did a third, unasked for letter to Severus. I made it as childish as I could manage, by holding the quill in my non-dominant hand and increasing the size of the wobbly letters. I liked to think of this as my own personal Comic Sans font. _Daddy, I’m very very very very very very sorry. Xoxox._ To finish it off, I drew inky hearts all over every empty space left on the page and a flower border. I rued my locked up wand, for I would have liked to have coloured it all in. I started this silliness long ago after realising that he never insisted on an apology for himself. When I found out that he had kept them in his bedside drawer I continued.

Done with my tasks, I sucked my inky fingertips, and glared at the stack of Lockhart’s books that Harry had given me. They did not disappear. I glared harder. When after a full minute all that happened was myself getting a headache, I pulled the topmost one to me.

 _Gadding with Ghouls._ On the colourful cover, Lockhart was smiling brilliantly, mugging and waving at me. Asshole. The winking was the last straw. I couldn’t stand it. Picking up the quill again, I did what every child had done before me the world over. While he did his best to dodge, I drew a mustache and devil horns on his head, and a pitchfork in his hand.

Snape was busy, and I didn’t want to see his disappointed face right at that moment, so I left him alone and scooted back to the couch to entertain myself. Perhaps I could expose Lockhart if I knew exactly what he did? He might have been able to fool the wizarding world but he won’t fool me. I gritted my teeth. This was going to be awful. Groaning, I opened the book.

It was fascinating.

If you skipped the self-love, the whole chapter on his accomplishments, and ignored the fact that he hadn’t actually been the one capturing the ghouls, then it was quite a thrilling story. Possibly the best I have read since I came.

Even though it was known that I read advanced for my years, most gifts I received still tended to be for preschoolers. I’ve received quite a few Tales of Beedle the Bard type of stuff from Severus’s family—which I read because Magic was amazing and the pictures moved, but the plots were ultimately simplistic, catering for the younger crowd.

Initially I had hopes of starting my studies early, but unless you can get someone to read it out loud to you there’s little you can do about the age restrictions on the magical books. According to Percy just touching the wrong book can be unsafe for anyone under eleven. He told me stories of kids who died horrible deaths, prematurely trying out spells they’ve got an older sibling to read. Instead of making a regulating body, the lazy wizards just restricted all, and kids my age were relegated to learning silly things such as colouring spells and how to magically tie our shoelaces. You would think those easy but I have still not managed the latter.

When Snape came to see how I was getting on with my assignments, I was nose deep into Lockhart’s book and highly invested.

“I take it that you are done with your work?” he spoke beside me, making me jump three feet in the air and clutch the book with a shout to my chest. He frowned in concern. “What are you reading?”

“Lockhart is gadding with ghouls. He’s just caught one with a tea-strainer.”

“Should you be reading it if you find it scary?” he asked. By now he did not even find it strange when I reacted like a child. “Perhaps something more age appropriate will be better.” Heck, he more often than I forgot my real age. Snape reached down and sorted through the stack. “Here. _One Hundred and One Practical Uses for Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans._ Hm. Seems to be more your style.”

“Funny, Severus. I am going to be five next week. Or a hundred and thirteen. Show me something that’s not age appropriate.” Irritated with his silliness, I jumped up and plucked the book out of his hands. “If it doesn’t say chewing, then I doubt he knows anything. Leave my books alone, you have your own.”

“Do we need to talk about attitude?” he asked mildly, releasing it.

Fuck. “No.”

It was in my best interest to excuse myself to the privacy of my bedroom. Away from mildly furious wizards who might add more days to an already overlong, mostly unfair punishment.

They had done some adjustments to the rooms. Minerva had brought in architects, who enlarged our living area, added some windows that weirdly looked out on the lake and not earthworms and rock, and we now had a hallway with doors separating our bedrooms. They even added another bathroom just for me.

It took me four trips to take all the books to my bedroom, where I hurriedly dumped the too heavy tomes on my bedside cabinet. One tumbled down to the floor, half sliding in under the bed, and I accidentally kicked it deeper. Nevermind, I will get it later. Normally I would treat a book with more respect, but even though I wanted to read these—for research purposes!—they still belonged to that idiot.

While I was doing that, Severus scanned my work.

“Apology accepted, Albus,” he said, unfairly taking the wind from my anger. He folded my letter up and put it in his breast pocket. “Re-write the envelope, Snapes do not make death threats.”

* * *

Outside the sun was shining on a new day. Fishing would have been nice. Or even just relaxing with a book under a willow. Neither would happen this week. Being grounded was awful.

It was only the third time I had been grounded. For all that Snape was a moody bastard, in the end as a Dad he was more of a talker than a punisher. Unless he felt I had put my life in danger. The second time, I was embarrassed to say, I had been trying out his stock of Blishen's Firewhisky—pretending I was of age. For some reason I thought you would breathe actual fire, and I kept drinking to see it happen for much longer than I should have. It got me a trip to the infirmary, magical alcohol poisoning instead of magical dragon abilities, a horrible scolding from Minerva, and an overly long lecture by Snape, followed with a whole month of being grounded.

His idea of grounding consisted of early bedtimes and staying where he could see me. Thus I was forced to tag along wherever Snape needed to go.

A portrait sniggered as we walked past, Snape ahead and me stomping my feet, dragging behind.

“In trouble again, little Albus?” the young girl asked, leaving her flower picking to giggle inanely at me. “You look like the hippogriff ate your chickens.”

I ignored her. At first I had tried to make friends with the portraits, especially when I was hiding away for the day and needed some entertainment, but they were all snitches. Like everyone else I quickly learned not to pay them any mind. Except for the former headmasters who had a little bit more magic imbued in them, the ones in the hallways tend to be stuck on the same thoughts day by day, but were quick enough to tell an irate Potions Master where to find his delinquent son.

I yawned and stumbled in his wake. I might have been sent to bed at seven but that didn’t mean I actually _slept_.

We were on our way to the teacher’s lounge. Life now consisted of meetings and schedules and revisions of class notes. Magic ever evolving, it didn’t do to be teaching old information. I was glad to be absolved of it all. Since the other teaching staff will attend, either Poppy or Minerva will play the role of Dumbledore today for an hour or just to show face. As Snape’s son I had no input either, and expected to be bored out of my mind, so I was lugging ‘Gadding with Ghouls’ with me to the torture chamber, hoping there would be cake.

There was cake. There was also a very full staffroom. All the usual suspects were there and we were greeted with warm smiles as I called most of them my friends by now. I felt it would be good points in Severus’s favour if his son was not a total brat, so I had made an effort to be polite to the teachers from the start. Well most of them. I’ve been very successful in evading Alastor Moody, Irma Pince and Sybill Trelawney. And now him.

Between the mass of old and new faces—the assistants had finally arrived—Lockhart stood out. A gleaming violet peacock looking very jaunty, hands stuck on his hips, hat placed just so at a perfect angle on his golden curls. “There he is! Our own little lovable rascal!”

He pushed through the gathered crowd. Before either of us could stop him he plucked me out from where I had taken shelter behind Snape, and held me aloft Lion King style.

“Oh, my! Is that my Gadding with Ghouls in your arms? Why yes dear boy, I will certainly sign it for you,” he exclaimed, projecting his voice expertly through the room. “Oh, aren’t you adorable today. All decently dressed and clean! Well except for those inky hands, what have you been doing with them, love? I hope you’ve not been spending every hour writing to me? I have received your precious apology, dear heart, and came bearing a gift!” With that the madman stuck me on his hip and clicked his fingers.

A shiny gold package, with the most ostentatious ribbons I had ever seen, rose behind the crowd and floated over their heads toward us. Gift or no gift I was being manhandled by this stranger, and I twisted around to search out Snape in a desperate plea for aid. Help!

“Unhand my son, Gilderoy,” Snape said gamely and took me back. In that instant I forgave him everything and clutched myself like a Grindylow to his neck, vowing to lose my mood. He turned to Dumbledore. “Headmaster, what is this? I thought we had a meeting.”

“We’ve delayed it, dear boy,” Fake Dumbledore twinkled. “Assistant Professor Lockhart brought cake from a wonderful baker he had discovered yesterday, and we will be having a little Get To Know Each Other Party instead.” He pointed happily to a festive banner floating over his head that said exactly that.

“There will be games!” Lockhart yodelled.

“Since I know everyone here, you will excuse us. Albus needs his nap,” Severus lied without hesitation, and I loved him for it.

We had no choice. Snape folded under the combined pressure of Minerva—no more green hair—and Poppy/Dumbledore, negating my whispered offer to throw a tantrum. “Thank you, Albus. I’ve been through your tantrums, I would rather have a party,” he told me under his breath.

We found ourselves cornered, stuck in a chair opposite Lockhart, our little group the center of attention. I opted for the safety of Snape’s lap, and he in turn held me like a shield to his chest.

“You must be so excited to see what I brought you!” Lockhart exclaimed with unnecessary dramatics. God the man was the weirdest I’d met yet. “But before you open it, I would make a small request that you refrain from calling the newspapers. There will be no need, since I have already sent them all a well thought out article on our budding little friendship, and the wonderful gift I bestowed you in answer to your quaint little apology.”

Severus assured him we had no plans on telling anyone anything and gave my leg a light, warning pinch when I opened my mouth to say it even more succinct. I bit my tongue instead.

The package was as tall and wide as myself. For the life of me I could not imagine what the man had brought me. A new wardrobe? I tucked my hands behind my back and refused to touch it. It could not be anything good. “I don’t want it.”

“Albus,” Snape started in warning. “Take the gift, and say thank you,” he said, continuing to order me in a low tone, the last meant just for my ears. “Let’s get this done.”

“No.”

“Albus—” Snape repeated, but was cut off by my new nemesis.

“It is as I had feared,” Gilderoy proclaimed theatrically, all he needed was to put the back of a hand to his brow to finish the picture off. “The dear boy is struck shy by my magnificent presence. Let him be, Severus, I know how to deal with my little fans.”

Witches and wizards kept their wands in their sleeves, slipping them out when needed with an imperceptible flick or twist of their wrist. Gilderoy Lockhart’s wand came out with a loud fanfare of trumpets, and multicoloured streamers snaking into the air. I was not the only one whose jaw dropped. Snape’s arms tightened reflexively around me and I clutched at his sleeves. Opposite us the wizard twirled his wand at the package. It floated over and started unwrapping itself in a slow dance.

It was lewd. There was music. There was no stopping it.

“Dad…” I whimpered.

“I see it.”

Someone clapped, but I could not tear my eyes away from the spectacle in front of me to see who was so idiotic. Gilderoy twirled his wand another time, the room darkened, and a bright pink spotlight centered on the show. The gift twisted this way and that, never quite revealing itself. We sat awestruck as wrapping paper stripped off in large, showy motions, while the ribbons covered it up again in a coy tease. Finally—finally!—after what felt like an eternity, the last golden strip floated away and it all came to an expectant stop.

“Tadaa!” Lockhart sang. “Batteries included but not necessary!”

I stared in horror at the gift revealed. In a tall, rectangular box, behind a transparent panel stood a boyish doll nearly as large as myself. It was dressed in faded denim overalls over a candy-striped jumper. His fiery red hair stood straight out from its head, his eyes two bright, electric blue orbs, dominating in its round, chubby cheeked, plastic face. A creepy half moon smile… I shuddered.

Gilderoy Lockhart had given me Chucky.


	5. Trouble in Paradise

“Well now,” Severus said as I froze in abject horror at being the new owner of a monstrous killer doll. “Isn’t that… something.”

“Isn’t it just?” Lockhart replied, and clapped his hands sounding extremely impressed with himself. Then he produced a camera out of nowhere and made us pose for a slew of photographs with him. The flash blinded us into submission.

“I’m not going to keep that—that thing!” I hissed at Snape the moment Lockhart rushed off to bestow his delightful presence on others, indicating Chucky’s twin. “It’s evil! Haven’t you seen the film!”

“I don’t frequent Muggle cinemas, so no. You don’t need to play with it, Albus, but it was a gift so you will keep it. Behave.”

Behave! Fuck. Nevermind. When Severus was on a ‘behave yourself path’ there was no moving him. I was just going to have to get rid of it myself.

* * *

Severus refused to join the party games. “I am way too old for such nonsense,” he said acerbically, eyeing Minerva and Poppy, still in her Dumbledore guise, playing musical chairs with six others. The chairs were circling the players in their version. It made no sense.

“I am grounded,” I told Lockhart when he tried to drag me away instead. “You are not supposed to have fun when you are grounded.”

“Oh dear, that is too sad,” he said, and pulled an exaggerated sad face that didn’t manage to look sad at all. Did he think I was a baby? “Then, as host I will have no option but to sit here with the wonderful little Snape family.” He moved to settle into the chair opposite ours while I was still wondering who or what made him the host. “Have you read about the time I caught a whole colony of vampire bats with a toy fishing rod? Shall I sign the book you have brought with you? I saw you holding it earlier, darling. I’m truly blessed to see I’ve a new little fan. He clicked his fingers and the most ostentatious peacock quill and inkpot appeared on the low table between us.

Fuck. I had already forgotten I came here expecting to be bored. _Gadding with Ghouls_ was covered in devil’s horns, inside and out, and I could just imagine his reaction to it, let alone Snape’s.

I quickly hid my inky fingers but never had time to shout a desperate no, and Lockhart never had time to properly sit down. Instead, at the dire threat of the impostor’s company, Severus pushed me off his lap with the order: “Go play, Albus.”

“But—”

“Now.”

“Oh how delightful!” Lockhart exclaimed and grabbed my hand. “Come little one, there will be prizes!”

One of them had better be a ray gun to obliterate bats!

It wasn’t so bad.

The games were fun.

In fact, I had a great time.

Lockhart was everywhere. Organising, making sure no one besides Snape had time to sit, playing games and dealing out prizes. All the while mugging and taking photos. Everyone seemed to be in one mind and as the smallest—or rather the youngest, sorry Professor Flitwick—I was given every opportunity to win. I’m sure Lockhart struggled to keep his happy face, he seemed to be a wizard that needed to be the best in everything. Instead of getting the prizes he had to settle for handing it out and soon I had a stack of trinkets heaped next to his horrible gift, each accompanied with a signed photograph of the happy handover. I refrained with great effort from the very childish action of sticking my tongue out at him each time. Hell, I should get a prize just for that!

It was the weirdest thing seeing myself moving on a photo. Yes, sure, smartphones and videos was a thing already in my own time, but I never held an actual square of paper on which I moved. I looked like a wild eyed, flushed faced urchin, having the time of my life. The fuck, was that cake on my chin?

“You need a haircut,” said Severus, looking over my shoulder at the same picture. “Is that cake on your chin?” A handkerchief appeared, and channeling Molly Weasley he swiped at my face while I sputtered. The me in the picture danced in a happy circle, oblivious to his pink frosted chin.

* * *

There was no meeting but there was lunch, the party snacks making way for a dining table and by the time I ate the last bite of roast my eyes were heavy and I longed for my bed.

Severus rightly guessed my state and kindly gathered me and my prizes up, stating it was time for my nap. It’s one of the few benefits to having a toddler, he had told me before, the fact that he could use me an easy excuse to get out of unwelcome social obligations. ‘Albus needs x’, and off we would go.

I made him carry me back while I hung on his neck and blew a whistle that I had won playing Bite the Bag. In the shape of a bluebird, it promised to mimic every bird in existence but I think it already did a finch twice. Lies. I blew it again. A near deafening high trill echoed down the hall. Before I could figure out what bird it was—if you said he right name it would repeat the call—Snape took the whistle off.

I sighed and looked over his shoulder but the other party favours were too far to grab. Unnaturally bright blue orbs looked back at me and I shuddered. Wasn’t his damn eyes closed a second ago? No, Snape was right, the thing was just ugly, nothing more. “Lockhart might know how to throw a good party but he gives awful gifts,” I complained.

“He does, doesn’t he,” Snape agreed.

We both turned to look at the small procession of party favours floating behind us. The doll dominated the lot. His smile was, if possible, creepier than his eyes.

“Please can we burn it,” I begged shamelessly.

“It’s only a doll.”

“From that awful shop where they all move, Harry and I saw him try to bite another one’s nose off!”

“Animation to bring in customers, we don’t need to put its batteries in.”

“It’s evil!” I kicked out at him in frustration, swinging my legs wildly. “Why won’t you listen to me!”

“Stop that, Albus. You’ve been a moody brat ever since your little trip to Diagon Alley. Excuse me if I am somewhat tired of it. I will give you that the damn thing is ugly but it is still just a toy and not evil.”

“Fine, don’t bother crying if the TOY killed me. Let me down.”

He dropped me to my feet and I stomped ahead to our rooms, feeling hard done by. In the doorway of my bedroom we had another standoff. I spread my arms wide and refused him entry.

“I will not have that thing in my room.”

“Your toys belong in your room, we’ve been over this enough times,” the awful Dungeon Bat said, and pushed me aside without so much as a by-your-leave.

The trinkets floated to the top of my bookcase and Snape put the doll, still thankfully in its box, in the far corner next to my overflowing closet. After a moment’s thought he turned the box around to face the wall.

“See!” I crowed. “Admit it! It’s evil!”

“It’s ugly.”

“I bet he chose the ugliest one on purpose!”

“Do you need to shout?” Returning to me he kneeled and plucked my boots off with practiced efficiency. “Why would he do that? You’re being ridiculous and I think it’s high time for your nap, I am sure everything will look better when you wake.”

“I don’t want to.” Of course I wanted to. Dropping down for a nap when you’re played out is the best feeling in the world. Also extremely easy when you have no responsibilities to keep you awake. I just didn’t want to do it because he ordered it. Why should I listen to him if he did not bother to listen to me?

“You definitely need one,” Snape said, and scooped me up to dump me on my bed. I made to scramble off but found myself firmly tucked inside the blankets instead. The Bat’s a Wizard!

“Fine! You can put me to bed but you can’t make me sleep. I’m not tired. I’m going to be five soon and five-year-olds do not need naps,” I said, swallowing tears of frustration at being ignored and bit my tongue instead of swearing the room blue. I was willing to give up all the naps for the rest of my life not to have to sleep in the same room as the Chucky lookalike.

“You’ll stop having naps when I say so, lie down and close your eyes. Do we need to have a talk?”

It was no use. “Stop trying to have talks with me I am older than you.” I turned my back on him and pulled the covers over my head.

The bed dipped as he sat down beside me, and I stifled a frustrated groan when he said, “For someone older than me, you’ve been very excited for your fifth birthday.”

“For the gifts.” It's not shameful to like gifts. Magical gifts in particular was amazing and people tended to give me toys which I could never ask from Snape while I still had to play the role of old Dumbledore. My personal belief was that no one was too old for toys. “For the gifts,” I repeated. “Not because I’m happy to be five.” The last might be the tiniest of lies. “And the cake.” He had promised a special treat for the cake and I was quite looking forward to it.

* * *

I did sleep. I was given little option. Severus sat with me until I couldn’t resist the drag on my eyelids anymore. Which was probably not even five minutes. When I woke my bedside clock told me it was half past three, and the room was bathed in afternoon shadows, the only light an eerie blue glow from the corner. I battled my glasses on and turned to look straight into Chucky’s open eyes. On the floor next to him lay the open box…

Accidental magic was junk, just in case anyone wanted to know. The doll did not magically disappear into a tornado of fiendfyre. I did not spontaneously apparate to the furthest reaches of the Forbidden Forest, a bloody scary place that now felt much safer than my own bedroom. No, I had to do it all by myself. Shouting, I fell out of my bed, still tangled in my blankets, scraped my elbow hard on the carpet and ran out of my room, banging the door behind me.

No Dungeon Bats came to investigate. He wouldn’t be anywhere else but his office, always within calling distance, which was strange until I realised that all my freaked out screaming was just in my head. For a moment I felt highly incensed and considered screaming out loud, but then realised that I did not want him to come anyway. For one, I was still angry at him, you have to bloody well listen to your children when they were scared of something, and for another, his absence gave me the perfect opportunity to get rid of the evil incarnate thing that he called ‘Just a toy’. Now to gather up the courage to go back inside my bedroom.

It took some very harsh talking to myself, words like chicken and spineless was thrown about the empty hallway, and deep breathing exercises that left me quite light headed before I had gathered enough willpower to return to my bedroom.

The box stood upright in the corner, facing the wall. Fuck.

Did I dream it? Was the Bat right and was I exaggerating the issue? Wait, just because the box was in place didn’t mean Chucky was still in it. A shiver ran down my spine. My knees turned to water and I’m sorry but I had a desperate urge to pee. I blame being five, no fuckit, I blame never having been stuck inside a horror movie. I needed to go to the toilet more than I needed to go turn the box around to see if the demonspawn was still inside. Halfway to the bathroom I stopped cold. Oh God, what if it was waiting for me in the bathroom? I couldn’t risk it. Best to get it over with, go see if he is in the box, if not then I can call Snape and show him proof, no need to live through any murderous bathroom scenes...

Easier said than done. Have you ever touched something you didn’t want to? I don’t know how long I stood behind that box, reaching out and pulling back again, nerving myself up to turn it around before finally I reached and _tugged_ , jumping away as it fell over on its back. I was already screaming, preparing to see the empty box but the doll was still where it should be. Standing lifeless behind the plastic window, and firmly tied to the carton with little silver wires, its blank, lifeless eyes stared past me at nothing.

It was fucking with me. That’s what. Fine. I’ll play. Let’s see how it liked to fuck with fire.

The boxed evil was nearly as big as myself but anger gave fuel to my bones and I muscled it out of my room, down the hallway and to the sitting room where the fire burned bright. One heave and it will burn down to nothing— _no wait_. Better to be sensible. This much plastic in the fire will make the rooms unbreathable. I can’t remember if there even existed an air purifying spell and even if it did then Snape would have to be the one to wield it. I would prefer it if he didn’t find out about this just yet. Floo!

Honestly, sometimes I get the brightest ideas. I would chuck Chucky’s twin in the Floo and let the void take it. Reaching the floo powder on the high mantelpiece needed moving an armchair over and keeping a sharp eye on the connecting door to Snape’s office. Lately he had been very busy with his brewing, more often than not having greasy hair and stained fingers again, so I prayed he would be busy deeper in his potions room instead, impossible to hear the harsh scrape of wood on the stone floor from there.

The fireplace was necessarily tall to accommodate people and I had to stand on the back of the chair to reach the urn. I was much more accustomed to the smaller limbs now than when I had started off, and climbed the chair like a monkey. I easily managed to get a handful of the glittery powder and shimmied down again to gather the box.

Where to send it? Will it actually reach if I threw it in or just float around like I was hoping? Surely if it was going to reach then people could just throw their mail and packages through the fire at each other instead of sending it by owl, right? Oh why haven’t I ever asked Percy these questions! Wait. We can only go inside the castle from here, I would have to go to Dumbledore’s office to actually throw it out, wouldn’t I? That decided it. I would just have to trust that I can manage the small skip from here to the office, there’s no way I can drag the box all the way up there without being found. I gripped the box tighter and threw the floo powder into the flames. It flared green. “ _Dumbledore’s Office!_ ”

“No you don’t,” Snape said behind me and grabbed me away. Twisting me away from the green flames and turning me around his hand floated past my face, and I did the only thing I could under the extremely wrought circumstances. _I bit him_ and tried to jump back to the hearth.

“Extinguo!” Snape shouted at the fire, his wand extended. It snuffed out, plunging the room into semi-darkness, the afternoon sun through the window our only light. “Don’t you dare move a hair, Albus,” Severus said, and gripped the back of my collar. As if I could. He was three times my size. I was done for.

Fuck. Would it have been so bad to just let Chucky suck out my soul?

The wall sconces lit up. Severus put his wand away and glanced at the hand that I had just bitten.

“I’m sorry,” I said. And I was. Even though he was being totally unfair in disregarding my issues with the doll I still wouldn’t have bitten him if I had had a moment to think. I went willingly when he nudged me to the couch and scooted myself into the farthest corner.

“Why?” he asked.

I tried to gauge his ire but his face was a blank mask, his eyes emotionless, and my heart sank to my stomach. “For biting you?”

“Not for nearly killing yourself in the Floo?”

“I was just going to the office, nowhere else!”

Snape frowned. “Albus. What happens when an underaged wizard steps unaccompanied into a Floo?”

“I’m not really underaged, am I? And besides, my accidental magic started. I was just going to my office…”

“You are four! Your body is four! Not a hundred and twelve, I thought you understood it by now! Why would you do such an idiotic thing! No, this is beyond idiocy! What happens when an underaged Wizard steps unaccompanied through the Floo, answer me, Albus!”

This one I had from Percy. They are ripped apart in the void. We had experienced some of that when it tried to pull me away from Severus to Diagon Alley, it was bloody scary. It was also why I was currently grounded. Did he think I forgot? “I was only going to go to the office.”

“To do what.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.” His face darkened, and I made myself as small as possible. “Nothing,” he repeated, sounding beyond exasperated. “The Albus I know would never have thrown himself headlong at a certain death. Go to your room, you can expect a visit from Poppy.”

Relieved not to have to listen to a diatribe I rushed off. I was halfway there when he called me back to collect my doll. He stood arms crossed, a Bat from Hell, watching me struggle off with the box, not offering any assistance. Poppy! She was his go-to when he thought I was not myself. Not Dumbledore. Doing something he thought idiotic. Didn’t know something I ought to. The latter happened often enough that they’ve decided memory loss must be one of the side effects of being my new age, for all of Poppy’s tests, each and every time, said I was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Minerva always appeared soon after.

In my room I threw the box on the floor, kicked Chucky/Not-Chucky viciously under the bed and flopped onto it. Burying my face into the pillow I let out a smothered scream. I didn’t have time for this, this whole thing started because I needed to save Ginny from the diary and I am not any closer to that than I had been days ago in Diagon Alley. Instead we were fighting over a bloody doll! By now Severus was just being stubborn, standing his ground, not to be that parent that wavered in his decisions, we’ve both read Poppy’s childcare book and that was a point they hammered on. Of all the wrong times to do this! And where the fuck was that diary!


	6. Tea and a Talk

The Dungeon Bat confined me to my bedroom. I was bathed, dressed in pajamas, given my dinner in my room, and feeling thoroughly fed up with it all by the time Poppy came and declared me Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Minerva entered soon after and in turn declared me overly dramatic when she saw Lockhart’s gift which I had dug out from under the bed for her inspection. She waved her wand over it to appease me, and when a pink light flowed through the box, she told me, “See? It’s just a toy.” As if I should know what she had done. Some days I truly hated non-verbal magic. They started teaching it in year six, and the only spells I ever heard were those of the younger students practicing Leviosa-LevioSA or throwing a Jelly-Legs Jinx, and the odd urgent shout from Severus when he was saving my hide.

She also wanted to know if I was trying to kill myself. Why else would I knowingly jump into the Floo like that?

I was getting tired of everyone hammering on it. Fine, I admit it, I tried the Floo because Percy had been my only teacher on the subject months ago, and half of his conversation was ‘you should really start asking your dad these things’. He had made it sound dangerous, sure, but not deadly. I felt stupid about it now, it’s not as if I had wanted to die! That wasn’t something I was prepared to tell them, so I stuck to my guns that I considered my mental age to be a mitigating factor to my physical in the dangers of underage Floo travel, and that I might even know better than them if it came to that. Wasn’t I nearly three times older than any of them? This did not go down well with her AT ALL. Her scolding was EPIC. At one point Snape entered only to turn sharply on his heels back out. That settled it, the man was truly beyond upset if he did not feel up to defending me.

* * *

“Poppy, he’s more concerned with missing his birthday than the fact that he could have died!” Severus complained to the Mediwitch. I hunched down behind the living room door and strained to listen. Minerva had left already, probably feeling her job done when she managed to make me cry, but Severus had asked Poppy to stay behind.

“That’s quite natural for his age—”

“One hundred and twelve?”

“You’re the only one that still clings to that age, Severus. It is time that you face it, Albus hasn’t acted adult in months,” Poppy said.

That’s not true! Just today I used the word mitigating! Not even one hour ago! I would have stomped my foot at this, it was totally a foot stomp type of nonsense, but I feared giving my listening spot away.

“He has his adult moments, Poppy, you are not living with him,” said Severus, thereby redeeming himself in my eyes. “Though I doubt that will persist now that his magic is starting, he is already acting out with that doll.”

Oh, unfair.

“It’s only natural for him to be agitated at this time, give his magic a month or so to settle and it will pass,” Poppy said placidly. “Your role as a parent is to provide him with a calm environment. If you won’t get upset he won't and it will all settle faster. Why don’t you just take the doll away if it bothers him that much?”

“I was expected to control myself at his age or else, and I don’t see why he should be spoiled. It’s not as if it's his first time gaining accidental magic.”

“It’s exactly as if it's his first time. You can’t expect him to remember his childhood after more than a century. I barely remember mine. I’m sorry to say this,” she lowered her voice and I pressed my ear against the door. It sounded as if she told Severus his mother had been wrong. Oh, that's not good. I tried that once. Telling Severus anything about his mother was just looking for trouble. The man had been livid and had kept himself secluded in his office for the rest of that day. This will definitely be the end of their conversation and I wisely left them to it, scarpering back to my room.

‘Chucky’ stood propped against my bed where Minerva had left him, the redheaded menace still safely tied into his box, the seal on the flap unbroken. According to Minerva I was projecting my fears on the doll. It did indeed look like any other plastic doll I’d ever seen and it’s true, I had been half asleep when I saw his eyes glow. She also said my accidental magic might be the reason it had done so if it ever had, and suggested I call him something other than Chucky to set my own mind at ease—yes, she had seen the film and it was: “Ridiculous nonsense. Really, Albus, I thought you would have more sense.”

Even so, I took the box and this time I put it in my closet, stuffing it on top of my other toys, apologising to them for having to share with Satan’s spawn. I had just closed the door when Snape entered after a sharp knock. He pointed me back to my bed with his detention face on. “Sit down, Albus, we need to talk.”

“You would have died,” said Snape after I obeyed, sitting himself down on the edge of my bed. “Not could have.”

“How do you know?”

His face twisted. I could practically see the sharp ‘How do you not?’ burn on his tongue, but he was a stronger man than I. “Years of studies on wizarding experience and mishaps with Floo travel,” he said. “You should know it also, you were the one that adjusted the castle’s Floos when we needed to.” He watched me with an inscrutable emotion on his face. Damn, if this was true then I might have just given myself away. Time to fall back on the old standby.

“I don’t remember that,” I said, opening my eyes wide and innocent, projecting Bambi.

“I see that. There seems to be a lot of things you don’t remember.”

He stilled, waiting for something, what exactly I didn’t know. He sometimes did this, and it was extremely frustrating not knowing what he wanted from me. After a while I shrugged uselessly. I needed this to end already.

“I’m adding another week to your punishment,” he said at last.

“What?! No! You can’t punish me for something I didn’t remember!”

“I can accept you didn’t know you would die, Albus, but were you or were you not aware that the Floo was unsafe unless someone carried you.”

I was. I hid myself with a groan under the covers. He dug me out and made me answer him properly, not going for half-measures today.

“I’m adding another week to your punishment,” he repeated.

“But that means I’ll be grounded on my birthday…”

“Yes.”

Oh. I swallowed back the threatening tears. That’s so unfair. “Will I still have my party?”

Snape hesitated. “Yes, you will have your party. I don’t believe kids should be punished on their birthdays so you’ll be exempt on that day,” he echoed my thoughts, but before I could become too happy, he continued. “We will add that day to the end.” He paused and visibly gathered himself. Oh God, we were not finished yet? “You need to stop biting people, this type of behaviour is completely unacceptable… ”

By the time he was done with his talk I felt suitably chastised and had cried enough sorry tears into his handkerchief to build a dam. I was getting tired of all this crying and honestly hoped five-year-olds had a better handle on their emotions.

“You’ll stay in your room until bedtime, at least you can come to no harm here,” Snape ordered before he left. The door closed with a sharp snap behind him, and blessed silence descended in my bedroom. I fell with a groan back on my pillows. What a horrible day. If I never saw any of their faces again it would be too soon.

In the closet something rustled.

* * *

When the monster was in your closet you hide under the bed. It was that easy. I took myself, my pillow, my duvet cover and the round night light from my bed stand and dove for safety. My plan to occupy myself with the book that had fallen in there earlier the week failed miserably as I only found dust. Severus must have tidied up again. It necessitated me going back out to grab Gadding with Ghouls which I was still busy with, a trip to the bookcase that passed the now suspiciously quiet closet. Keeping one eye on its door I made it to the bookcase and back without breathing.

Ghouls were supposedly harmless creatures that lived in people’s attics and banged on pipes. The ones Gilderoy had found in Guam were the stuff of nightmares, spirits that robbed graves and fed on dead bodies. He spent a month stranded on an island with a couple of other wizards and witches, all supposedly terrified out of their wits and hanging onto him as their designated saviour. The book contained a multitude of unnecessary pictures, every last one of him in various fashionable outfits mugging for the camera with out of focus forest scenes behind him. It was extremely telling that there was not one ghoul or wizard or recognizable building to be seen. The story though was fascinating and I completely got why it was a bestseller. He had me hanging on every word and by the last chapter I could swear it was all in vain, that he and the other people were going to be ghoul toast, even though the damn man was walking the halls of Hogwarts this very moment. The hand grabbing my ankle could not have come at a worse time. I screamed loud enough to raise the dead and reared up.

Something hard hit the back of my head, black spots danced in front of my eyes, and the world whirled. When it stilled I found myself outside my bedroom in an unfamiliar place, lying flat on my back, staring up at a blurry white expanse of nothing.

This was not good.

I adjusted my glasses, the metal feeling whispy and unreal in my grip, but still I made a good effort to wipe it on my similarly ethereal pajama shirt before putting it back. Nothing changed.

It was not good at all.

The back of my head throbbed something fierce, making it hard to think. Oh God, the doll had killed me! I told them it would happen! I hope they are sorry now!

“You are not dead,” someone said.

Dreaming then.

“Not dreaming,” the voice answered. He didn’t sound like anyone I’ve met, yet his deep voice had a familiar ring to it.

“Are you reading my mind?”

“Maybe.” Dumbledore bent over me, and his brilliant blue eyes glittered down to me from behind familiar gold rimmed glasses. For the tall, thin man could only be him. The long silver beard was unforgettable, and I saw the same eyes every morning when I washed my face. “So, we finally meet.” He smiled benignly. “Fine mess you’re making of my life, little one.”

Mess! I personally thought I was doing the best I could. “I’m not little,” I protested, deciding not to apologise for the beard or the mess if he was just going to complain.

“Is that so? You certainly look tiny. Why don’t you show me the real you then. Let’s have a look.”

Oh it’s on, grandpa. I scrambled up. It was a strange request in a strange place and I had no clue why I bothered, but I tried anyway, concentrating with all my might. Nothing happened. Fuck. Not one to give up I tried until my headache bloomed behind my eyes, but even with all that effort I could barely picture my former self.

A tall, ornate silver mirror appeared in front of me, showing a dark haired, blue eyed preschooler in pajamas. I really did need a haircut. Dumbledore laughed at me.

“Why can’t I change back, have you done something to me?”

“I have not. Have you considered that this might be the real you?”

“A five year old child?” I scoffed. “That was an accident from your bloody potion.”

“Which you added quite a few things to.” He waved his wrinkled hand, dismissing it. “Are you so sure it was an accident?” Fawkes appeared on his shoulder and I stumbled back, falling flat on my ass.

“You did this?!”

“I did not.”

“Then who!”

“You did this to yourself with a little help from our Universe. I believe that for the first time in your life you are exactly where you should be.”

A toddler stuck in a family built on lies? “I am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you—”

“What are you, three?” I snapped at Dumbledore. “Stop that.”

He laughed again, the sound echoing strangely in the empty space.

Not dead and not a dream… “Ugh. Let me guess. You are a figment of my imagination.”

“No, this is me. I thought it’s high time we had a little talk.”

“I’ve had enough talks today to last me a lifetime. No thanks.”

“About your little aborted trip through the Floo? Yes, I saw that. Fine way to kill us, if that’s what you wanted to do, have you not learned anything yet?”

More important than another person scolding me was the fact that he had seen that. It filled me with horror and my voice sounded shrill in the huge cavern. What else had he seen? “Are you watching me?!”

He shrugged. “A part of my soul is still attached to yours. Certainly not by choice, believe me. I personally would be happy to move on, unlike some.”

_Fuck. Are you in my thoughts?_ I'm sorry, you would be slow too with this headache.

“Yes, I am.”

“So you’re dead? Did I kill you?”

“I am dead, yes, but you did not kill me, from what I understood your soul saw an opening and took it. Interesting world you come from, I find it hard to imagine people being able to get a new beginning in books—”

“How did you die?” I did not have time for ramblings on my old world. It is the new one I was concerned about.

“Hm, impatient, are you? I had a heart attack, Poppy would say it’s all the sweets, you might want to calm down on them yourself. Be that as it may, you inserting into me saved the students from quite a distressing sight, thank you, little one.”

Oh. Well that was a relief, I had spent my time feeling guilty for nothing it seems. “Stop calling me that it’s creepy,” I snapped. “Why am I here?” Here, I saw now, was King’s Cross train station, the surroundings becoming cleared by the moment. Why did this feel so familiar?

“I thought it was high time we met. Would you like some tea?” A table with a large silver tea set and comfortable armchairs appeared a short way off.

“No,” I was starting to feel ill, and I could barely think to make sense past the headache. “I want to go home.”

“Are you sure? They make particularly lovely Angel cake here,” he said, and a cake stand appeared on the table, filled to the brim with delicacies. I wavered at that and he laughed. “A little joke, forgive me. Home. I can make that happen,” he nodded and twinkled down at me, smiling behind his long, shiny beard. “Where is home? Your world?”

“What? If you’re in my mind then you know home is Hogwarts. Severus is going to blow his shit if he can’t find me. Say what you need to say and let me go.”

“It’s already been said. Take care and stay out of trouble!”

The building started dissolving around us and Dumbledore faded with it.

“What! What was said! You said nothing!”

“Go home.”

It’s not as if I had a choice, something was already tugging me away. Asshole that thought he knew everything. What did he mean I was where I was meant to be. Oh, I was an idiot—he knew everything! “No, wait! Where’s the diary!”

“What diary?” Severus asked beside me.

“I don’t know,” I moaned—because by now I felt like moaning was definitely necessary—and looked disoriented at my blurry surroundings. I was flat on my back again, this time on something softer, but my head still hurt and I might sick up any moment, why was he asking me about diaries right now? “I don’t even know if there is one, there should be one but I haven't found it yet!”

“The diary? Is this what all your fuss had been about?”

Ah damn. I was going to give myself away. Imagination or not, better change the topic quickly. “I met Dumbledore.”

“Yes? Where is he?”

I narrowed my eyes to bring Severus’s vague, blurry form next to me into focus. “You won’t believe me that Chucky is evil but ‘I met Dumbledore’ does it for you?”

“Both Minerva and I tested the doll,” Severus answered. “There’s nothing wrong with it except in your imagination.” He reached out and put my glasses in my hand, the metal cold, hard and _real_. Oh. “Tell me more about Dumbledore,” Snape said.

_Oh_.


	7. Let’s all freak out.

Oh. We were in the Infirmary, safe and sound in Hogwarts. Oh bloody fucking hell, think fast you idiot! Why did you say Dumbledore?! “I had a dream, Daddy. That I met myself on King’s Cross station.” Just enough truth with the lie is the trick, unless Severus gets it into his head to do his ‘look into my eyes’ little spiel. “We were going to have cake but then I woke up.” I held my arms out to him. “He said I can go home. Can we go home?”

The silence went on too long. I lowered my arms stupidly, my hand tightening painfully around my glasses. I didn’t dare put it on, for best not to see his face, and my stomach cramped in expectation. “Daddy?”

“We will go home after Poppy has seen to you,” Snape said finally, in a long drawn out sigh. “Lie down.”

I lay down dutifully. Crisis over. What does he mean Poppy should see me? “Again? But she just saw me this morning.”

“You knocked yourself out on your bed frame, so Poppy will see you, yes, again.”

Oh yes! I sat straight up like a Jack-in-the-Box, feeling vindicated, and pushed my glasses on needing to glare at him. “Because Chucky grabbed my foot!”

“Enough, Albus,” the Bat said. “I don’t want to hear about it again—I was the one who touched your foot, not the bloody doll. I was checking up on my son who was supposed to be asleep. What were you doing under your bed?”

Hiding from Chucky. “Nothing, just playing,” I said and removed my glasses so that I didn’t have to see him anymore. So why was he mad at me if it was his fault? That seemed very unfair.

We waited in deathly silence until the Mediwitch came. For some reason Snape felt the need to tell Poppy about my dream while she examined me. He sounded strange, as if he put more meaning to it, which made no sense, but I had no time to give him my full attention what with Poppy’s ministrations.

“It’s not surprising. After all, he nearly died today,” she said, making no sense either, and shone a light into my eyes. “No more playing in the Floo, all right Albus? I bet older you told you the same.”

“He had,” I admitted, blinking bright spots away. I submitted to the rest of the examination with poor attitude even if I have to say so myself. They were hiding something from me, and I hated it when they talked over my head. When she was done I informed her of my headache and swallowed the nasty potion she gave me, gagging on the taste of musty socks. The headache disappeared directly though, so it was well worth it. Poppy gave me a mint to suck on and sent us on our way.

Severus carried me from her Floo through to ours and back into my bedroom. “This time you will go sleep, no more playing,” he ordered, setting me gently on my bed. Oh come on! Was it still the same day?! “You are to stay in the room also, don’t set a foot out of it without my permission.”

“Until when?”

“Until the morning, Albus. Call me when you wake up.”

Aargh! I flopped back onto the bed, accidentally giving him the opportunity to tuck me in.

“What if I get hungry?”

“You’ll be sleeping. We don’t get hungry while we sleep.”

Yeah, right. It’s as if he didn’t know me at all. “What if there’s a fire, do I still have to stay in my room?” I asked, just to be difficult. “Do you want me to call you while I burn or can I save myself?”

“I will want to know exactly how that fire started. Believe me, you will not be a happy little boy when I am done with you.”

Oh please, I wasn’t scared of him. “Who said I would make the fire? You can’t blame me if it was Chucky that set it—when can I have my wand back? I can protect mys—”

“ _Albus. Sleep,_ ” he snapped, channeling Minerva’s tone and it shut me up right quick.

Why didn’t he listen to me! He was impossible. I turned my back on him. “I hate you.”

“What was that?”

“Goodnight, Father.”

* * *

With all his current irritation, the wizard was still too nice. He left me my nightlight and _Gadding with Ghouls_ on the bedside table. If I was my kid I would have removed all temptation. I had five pages left, no way was I leaving that for the morning. The ending did not disappoint, in fact, it was so satisfying that I actually found myself feeling sorry for having defaced the book—I might have liked to have it autographed after all.

You might ask why I wasn’t contemplating my future exposure with suitable doom and gloom, having nearly given myself away tonight. To that I would answer that it had happened so often in the past year that by now it was routine. It never went further than my initial scared rush to find an acceptable lie, which they might probe a little but ended up accepting at face value, rarely referring again to my slip-ups. In the early days Severus would try to get me to confess, but dissolving into floods of tears—not all fake—soon solved that. Were they gullible or trusting or was their Albus just so erratic? Who knew. I certainly wasn’t going to poke it.

My night was restless. Every small noise that usually escaped my attention now woke me up to scrabble hurriedly for my glasses. Was that creak the closet door? Could I actually be hearing my own breathing? No, that’s just my jumper that I had thrown over the chair last week… When I reached the point of ‘ _Oh God, my foot wasn’t under the cover!_ ’, I gave up trying to sleep and took up _Holidays with Hags._

I am fairly sure I finally fell asleep on the book, drooling some pages shut, but by morning _Holidays with Hags_ was set on my bedside, my glasses folded neatly on top. Chucky would not have been so obliging to tidy up after me, which gave me a moment of worry that Severus now had another thing to complain about.

He didn’t. He took one look at my grumpy, tired face, and spent the morning digging into his reserves of patience. We might have Poppy’s wise words to thank for that, but in all honesty he never harped on once he was done scolding. Which was actually a nice change from how I grew up. If ever my mother grounded me for a period of time she would spend that whole time being angry at me be it a week or a month, it was absolute torture and not something I missed.

* * *

“Oh, darling,” Lockhart said at breakfast. Having entered the Great Hall at the same time as us, he stopped and cupped my face in his hands. “What happened to you, you look exhausted!” He moved to hold me an arms length away. “Oh, your clothes!”

What was wrong with my clothes? I looked down. I admit it was the first thing I grabbed from the closet, not wanting to open the door wide in case his evil gift attacked me, but there’s nothing wrong with the robe.

“How special you make me feel!” Lockhart sang, quickly gathering attention from everyone in the Great Hall. Knives and forks were set down and silence fell. They had already learned that the man was a treat on his own, better than any soap opera. “You colour coded with me!” he trilled and brought forth his camera.

I had indeed. Between the blinding flashes of his camera I saw we were both dressed in identical deep-plum coloured robes, though his had ostentatious gold edging on the hems. Mine had been a gift from Severus’s favourite aunt. Insisting that I needed to brighten up my summer selection she had taken me on a shopping spree through the fashionable part of France’s magical area. She might have been French but she had taste, and the colour suited me well. It had been one of my favourites until now.

“Do not worry, dear heart, I will send the article to the papers, oh, you’ve made my day, darling!” Lockhart produced his quill and signed a photo for me, pressing it into my hands. “To think! I have little fans as young as six!” he crowed.

“Five,” I corrected just to let him know he was wrong on something.

“Four,” Severus said. “Five in two days, unhand my son, Lockhart, our breakfast will get cold.”

“Two days?! Oh, but that’s not nearly enough time to buy a gift!” he called in full dramatic fervour.

“No!” said Snape, Minerva, Poppy and myself in a loud chorus that left him flapping. Snape plucked me from his clutches and moved me to the teacher’s table, now double in size and filled with a sea of new faces, but Lockhart followed short on our heels.

“Ah, of course. You’re afraid my gift will overpower the magnificent one you had brought him, Severus. Do not worry, a father’s gift will always be closest to his son’s heart.”

“I fear no such thing.” He started adding scrambled egg to my plate.

“No?” Lockhart seated himself on my other side and not to be outdone, added toast to my plate and started to butter it. Oh God, the man was insufferable. “Mm. Well, aren’t you lucky to have such a fearless daddy, Albus? Let me guess, you’re looking like a wrinkled lettuce because you are excited for your party. You will have a party, yes? Oh it is going to be so much fun!” he exclaimed, dabbing jam on my toast and went off into an ecstatic rant on exactly how much fun it was going to be because he, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award will be there to see that it happened.

“It will be a children’s party, Lockhart.” Snape tried valiantly when I looked to him for help, unable to get a word in edgewise. “Adults are not invited.”

That was true. The Weasley’s were coming, some kids that I had made friends with in Slytherin will come—not Draco!—and my new cousins from across the pond, including the one bratty cousin that was a year older than me. I detested her, but Snape insisted I had to invite her or no party. Whatever Gilderoy Lockhart was he was not stupid. He quickly ascertained that Minerva and Poppy would be there and offered his services as the ‘darling children's entertainer’ while the adults relaxed aside. Why, he would come over to color coordinate our party outfits so that I could feel extra special on my great day, spending it by my Idol’s side. Snape gave in like a spineless slug and I sat seething through the rest of the breakfast meal, trying to grow warts on his nose between bites of egg.

* * *

Back in our apartment I sequestered myself in my room, banging the door behind me, and the bane of my existence went off to play with his potions or toes. I had just settled myself for a nice read with a bag of Cockroach Clusters at my elbow, when Snape came knocking.

“Albus, have you touched my knives?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why do you do anything these days?”

We glared at each other.

I gave in first, but not without a fight. “I haven’t touched your stuff, Severus. When would I even have had time to do it?”

“If I find out you had anything to do with it you’ll be—”

“In trouble, yes I know. One sorry little boy. I didn’t touch your stuff and I wouldn’t touch your stuff if you paid me.”

I had zero interest in reading after he left, having stormed off in a huff of threats. What on earth was the matter with him these days? God only knew. I put Lockhart’s stupid book aside and crunched away on handfuls of Cockroach Clusters to calm down. What the hell would I even want with a knife? On cue, something banged in my closet and the door swung open, toys spilling out every which way.

Percy Weasley didn’t come on his own, he came with a set. His sporty roommate, Oliver Wood, hung about him more often than not, and Fred and George always popped up with Ron and Harry not far behind. All of them boys with low impulse control. Then there were the Slytherin lot who knew everything about playing hard and dirty and felt Snape’s son needed to learn it early. So when Chucky’s clone raised Severus’s best chopping knife, I stormed him. He didn’t have a chance to step out of the closet before I was on him, grabbing the knife away from his stupid doll fingers and hacking away at his horrible face.

So focused was I that I didn’t hear my bedroom door open. “Albus, I brought Arthur to dispel your fears about the— _Albus Snape!_ ”

* * *

It took both of them, Severus and Arthur Weasley—where had he come from?—to drag me off the doll and divest me of the knife. I gave them a good struggle and showed off my new French.

By now I was way past done with the whole setup. I had been through a horrible week, hadn’t been able to help Ginny, had been scolded up the wazoo, not believed when I was serious, had been forced to talk to the dead man I was impersonating, and couldn’t see any way that Snape was going to believe me now. It was so bloody unfair! I shouted at Severus, probably making no sense, and flailed out at him to let me go.

I might have lost my mind there for a bit.

The only thing I remembered clearly was shouting at him not to bring Poppy again or I would move in with Lockhart. I know. That was the worst threat I could think of. It was also the best example of cutting off your nose to spite your face. I told you, I wasn’t making sense.

I adored the Dungeon Bat, I didn’t really want to live anywhere else and that was what I cried next after he had calmed me down. Up and down our little sitting room he walked with me in his arms, hushing me out of my hysterics while Arthur casted spells on the now thoroughly mangled doll in my bedroom.

“Don’t send me away!” I wailed into Snape’s neck, sobbing for Queen and country.

“No one is sending you anywhere. Hush now.”

“The doll is not possessed,” Arthur said behind us and I wailed anew. Snape patted my back and Arthur raised his voice to be heard above the noise I was making. “He isn’t possessed now, Albus. But he was before. I found no traces of a soul but there’s clear evidence that he broke himself out of his box from the inside. We need to call the Ghostbusters.”

“...” I went, confused enough to stop crying.

“What?” Snape asked.

Arthur laughed, the sound a delighted wheeze that felt as strange in the room as his words. “It’s a film we watched. We’ve recently been introduced to the magic of films and the children insisted we buy a VHS home entertainment system. We’ve been renting Muggle films this last week, catching up. Do you know, we are ninety percent sure half of the film industry must be Muggleborn? Take for instance Mary Poppins, her bag positively smacks of—”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Snape said.

“Sorry, it was a little joke. We need to call the Unspeakables, Severus, I don’t think this will be the last of it.”

“So it is not Albus’s magic acting up?”

“Not that I…” he paused, considering me. I tried to melt into Snape’s chest. Arthur shook his wand out into his hand. “Do you mind if I tried something, Albus?”

“Yes!”

“No, he doesn’t mind,” Severus spoke over me. “What is it?”

“Harry said something interesting, here, let me just see then I will be able to tell you more.” He silently cast a spell at me, his magic vibrating up my spine, nearly similar to Poppy’s usual examinations, but this one went further, I felt it go all the way up to my head in a deep, unsettling throb. For a second a bright green light enveloped me and then it was gone with a flash. “I’m sorry, Severus.” Arthur said, putting his wand away. “Your son is a Horcrux.”

The world went dark.


	8. Feet of clay

“You are so dramatic,” Severus said when I came to. He was sitting on the couch with me on his lap. I had long since accepted that being carried about and being held by everyone was part of the package of being a four-year-old. Well truth be told I quite liked it. “A true drama queen,” the Dungeon Bat continued.

“It’s the age,” Arthur said from the opposite chair, where he was having tea, nibbling away on what looked like a cucumber sandwich. No cake. I nearly died and they were having tea? “He’ll be five tomorrow, right?”

“After tomorrow.”

“That’s good, then we can sort him today and he’ll be right as rain for the party. Harry needed a day in bed after we removed You-Know-Who from him. Of course the younger they are the quicker they recover. Why, I remember my lot was never sick for more than a day, Molly would barely have time to pamper one before they were off climbing the rafters again, getting into all sorts of mischief.”

I had not heard anything said about Harry and him being a horcrux. After telling the Unspeakables that Voldemort had made some—having pretended that I had overheard him and Quirrell talk—I had left it in their hands and concentrated on having as much fun as I could have in a magical castle. What? I was four, did you honestly want me to go on a horcrux hunt?

“I’ll be lucky if I get a day’s rest out of him,” Snape said. Oh unfair, I am not that hard to manage! I tried to wriggle off his lap but he held me fast. “Stay right where you are, Albus, I’m not running after you.”

“I’ll just go to my room.” And pack a jumper and maybe clean underwear and slip off. I didn’t want to be exorcised! I was supposed to get more time! Now Dumbledore will get my birthday and the surprise cake, it was so unfair! I’ll be some ghost in King’s Cross station with my bad luck! I didn’t have my wand or Harry’s cloak, Severus having hidden both, but maybe I could make it to the Forbidden Forest before they missed me. To my consternation, Severus stood up with me and started walking to and fro, patting my back.

“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking, Albus, breathe.”

It was unfair to expect them to keep me over THEIR Dumbledore. If I wasn’t going to be given the chance to run I would have to be the better person and let them kill me. Maybe they will give me time to write a letter to Percy first? And Severus’s Aunt, she can say goodbye to the rest of his family for me—

“Breathe, Albus.”

“I’m breathing! If I wasn’t breathing I’d be dead already then no need for you to kill me! And why are you touching me! You shouldn’t touch horcruxes your arm will rot off!”

“Nobody is going to—” Severus started to say but was interrupted by the portrait opening and Minerva and Poppy entering. Lockhart on their heels.

“Is it true? My little fan is a horcrux?!” Lockhart called out, pushing past the witches. I honestly don’t know how Severus can still call me dramatic after having met Lockhart. He swept into the room in a flow of plum coloured cloth and accosted me where I was still trying to gasp for air. “Oh dear! Look at you, my poor darling! I know just what to do!”

“Noo!” I cried out and tried to climb over Severus’s shoulder. “I don’t want to die!”

Someone seemed to be choking but I was just four and they couldn’t really think I was going to save them so I continued to try and save myself by climbing Snape like a tree.

Lockhart misunderstood my desperation. “No one will die from any horcrux while I am near, darling! Have no fear!”

“Albus, if Mr. Lockhart knows what to do then we can sort this issue right now,” Minerva said, earning my enmity for the next year. If I survived that was. She turned to the Mediwitch. “Poppy, do you have something to calm Albus down?”

“Perhaps we should wait for the Unspeakables,” Arthur said, and I decided that if I somehow survived this bloody circus then I would request to go live with him, no one else seemed to be having my welfare in mind.

“If I may say so myself, I might be able to teach the Unspeakables a thing or two on removal of sticky spiritual fragments,” said Lockhart while I continued my desperate bid to escape, my elbow connecting with something hard. Severus’s jaw if I was not mistaken. He said something that—for the life of me—I could not make out, only Lockhart's voice as clear as a bell. “Last summer I went horcrux hunting in the Hague, you might have read about my exploits in The Wizarding World News.” _Oh my God, his wand was out!_ “Hold him still, Severus.”

I yelled fit to raise the roof. Lockhart cast a spell that burned the air grey and Severus twisted us out of the way, swinging me in a wide arc, but it was too late. A sickening crunch was followed by the awful smell of burning flesh and Severus nearly dropped me. I felt no pain. “Oh, dear,” Lockhart said, sounding very far away. “Let me fix that.”

_The dreadful smell was coming from Severus._ Suppressing a groan he switched me to his other arm, and I had a clear view of his back. His black robe had melted into his _skin_ and he stood at an odd angle. Behind him, Lockhart was raising his wand yet again and I screamed. This time I wasn’t the only one.

Lockhart never got a chance to cast anything. Minerva, Poppy and Arthur’s spells hit him in a roil of colour that blinded me better than any magical camera flash. Through the rainbow of sparks I watched as the wizard went rigid, his eyes _bulged_ and he fell forward with an unearthly groan, toppling face first into our coffee table, the teaservice and cucumber sandwiches scattering everywhere.

“Severus!” Minerva called out. “Your back—”

“I told you!” I shouted at her.

“Not now, Albus.” Severus lowered me with a hiss to the floor. “Can someone take him?”

“I don’t need to be taken!”

And I wasn’t going to be taken at all. I grabbed his good hand and held fast while Minerva and Poppy converged on us. They did not try to make me let go. Poppy cast something at his wounds that made it glow with a pink sheen, and Minerva transfigured his favourite armchair into a stretcher. He grimaced, but I think it was more from pain. Behind us Arthur knelt over Lockhart.

“Leave him, Arthur,” Minerva said, her voice pure acid. “Come help us get Severus on the stretcher, his leg—”

“Yes-yes. Oh my goodness, what on earth had he been thinking.” Stopping next to us he settled his hand on my head and I clung harder to Severus, but Arthur just gave my hair a comforting rub. “Move one inch to the left, there’s a good lad, we’ll get your daddy to lie down. Shall we take him through the Floo, Poppy? You’ll need him in the infirmary or do you want St Mungo’s”

“The Infirmary will be fine. Severus, do you want me to cast a Somnum or can you manage five more minutes?”

“I prefer being awake,” he said through what sounded like clenched teeth. His eyes sought me out as they raised him horizontally before putting the stretcher under him. “Get on the stretcher, Albus, we will go through together.”

“So you can keep an eye on me?”

“Yes. That.”

Minerva wanted to protest, but Arthur resized the stretcher and picked me up next to Severus, while Poppy hurried everyone on. Sweat had started to bead on Severus’s brow and his face was turning an alarming shade of grey.

When we stepped out into the Infirmary they wasted no time in transferring him to a bed. Poppy scooped me up and handed me to Arthur, surprising me into letting go. “No, Albus. I am going to need space to clean his wounds and cast spells, no one can touch Severus now, stay aside.”

I looked to Severus for help but he was unconscious, and Arthur quick-stepped smartly back from the bed before I could grab on. He did the same back patting thing to soothe me, telling me to breathe, but I didn’t know why, I wasn’t the one hurt? And why the bloody hell did they keep telling me to breathe!

It was terrible. The most awful thing I had ever seen. Severus’s whole left side had been burned from shoulder to hip, his robe fused to his skin in acrid patches. The crack had been his hip, his bones deformed by Lockhart’s spell and the ever serene Poppy swore viciously under her breath when she examined it.

She had managed to wake Severus long enough to give him a plethora of potions to sedate him which made absolutely no sense. “You won’t want to be awake for the next part,” she had told him firmly, ignoring his weak protests. “Albus is watching,” she had said, and for some reason this made him do as told. 

“If you don’t kill Lockhart, I will,” Poppy told Minerva, not taking her eyes off Severus, casting spell after spell. 

I didn’t care one iota for Lockhart at that moment and had no energy to spend any thought on him. What Poppy was doing to Severus’s wounds was frightening, and I couldn’t look away. There were going to be a lot of nightmares in my future but perhaps the Unspeakables would kill me yet and it won’t matter.


	9. Deep breath

Two Unspeakables came. They found us all in the Infirmary where Snape now was resting, Poppy keeping an eye on his wounds in case Lockhart had done permanent damage. No one knew the exact spell the asshole had used. I cowered from them, hiding like a real baby behind Arthur who was still patiently keeping me company.

“Better to wait until his father has recovered, yes, Magnus?” Arthur told one of them, cementing my eternal love for him. “I doubt Professor Snape would like us to do anything to his son without his presence.”

“I’m here, Arthur,” said Minerva, “I will stand in for Severus—”

“No!” I called from behind Arthur’s back, where I was clutching his robe. Yes, I know, extremely childish, but what did you want me to do? They outnumbered and outsized me and sometimes hiding behind someone was the more sensible action. Especially since they hadn’t let me keep the knife. Snape was out of action and Arthur was the best option in the room. “I don’t want you!”

“Albus—” Minerva started.

“I’m not talking to you either! I told you and you didn’t listen! Why did you bring him anyway, he didn’t need to know I was a-a—”

“He was outside the room when Severus Floo-called us,” Minerva said. She was starting to look quite upset with me, but for once I didn’t care.

“Perhaps we can not shout around the sickbed,” Poppy said. “Shall we move aside?”

I wasn’t going anywhere ‘aside’ and I told her that in no uncertain terms.

“Not you, Albus,” Poppy soothed. “You can stay here. Arthur will keep you company,” she said, and turned to Weasley. “Won’t you, Arthur?”

That decided they moved off to her office, and only when the door closed did I come out of hiding to look at Severus. The bed was raised high for Poppy’s ministrations and I had to tiptoe to see him. Poppy had spent over two hours with him and he now lay propped on his side with a good amount of pillows. It didn’t look comfortable and he didn’t look well. Paler than I had ever seen him, his breathing was shallow, and the skin of his hand clammy to my touch. She had insisted he would be fine, his wounds were healing well, and there had been no sign of dark magic. His fractured hip might keep him in bed for now but he’d be right as rain by my birthday. As if I cared for my birthday.

“Do you want to sit up with your dad?” Arthur asked.

“There’s no space.”

“Ah, but that’s why we are wizards. Watch.” He shook his wand out—I moved well out of the way—and he waved it at the bed. The small spot next to Severus’s front expanded, making the single bed a full size, Severus untouched by the process. “Come then, let’s get you up there, did you know we feel better when we have someone we love close by? Even if we are not awake, our bodies know.”

I knew from research on comatose patients, yes, but said nothing. Whether Snape actually loved the person that inserted into his friend was open to question. I did let Arthur help me up though, even if just for myself, and he was right, something settled in my chest when I sat cross legged next to the Dungeon Bat. I scooted as close as possible without disturbing him and watched him breathe.

Arthur pulled an armchair closer and sat down himself. “He’ll wake in a couple of hours, don’t you fret. If you want to talk to him I won’t listen.”

I wouldn’t know what to say. And even if I did I was definitely not going to do it where the others could hear.

“Would you like to know about horcruxes? Harry was quite worried before they removed the soul fragment from him, I bet you’re wondering yourself.”

“I’m not.” I wasn’t wondering at all, in fact I knew better than him. He must be thinking about what I shouted in front of him and Severus earlier, before all this mess had happened.

“Is that so? That’s good to hear, Albus. Still, I am sure Harry would tell you himself if he was here, but it is nothing to worry about, he said it felt like a little pinch and nothing more.”

Yes, but unlike me, Harry was his own person. I’m sure it felt like more than a pinch for the invader.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Arthur said, continuing his one-sided conversation. “When Percy heard I was coming here he sent you this.” Arthur dug into his pocket and came forth with a small candy coloured paper bag that I recognised immediately as coming from Sugarplum's sweet shop. He set it next to me. “He was sure you had already finished your own and might like to have these.”

I peered in the bag to find three ice mice jittering inside. The cold treats were of my favourites and I automatically picked one out even though I wasn’t in the mood, letting it wiggle on my palm.

“Don’t eat it now, you’ll spoil your lunch,” Snape said. His dark eyes were open, staring at me. Heaven help me, but being watched so closely by the man I had thought was going to die unnerved me to such an extent that I did the only thing I could think of. I popped the mouse into my mouth and chomped down. My teeth started chattering immediately, and Snape fell asleep again with a disapproving sigh before I could tell him how glad I was that he was alive.

* * *

The Unspeakables sensibly decided to come back the next day when Severus was awake. Minerva tried to apologise to me for Lockhart and I stuck my fingers in my ears, my teeth chattering loud enough to drown her voice. Arthur left soon after, mussing my hair up on the way.

Lockhart was gone. This I heard from Minerva. Seeing her enter Poppy’s office in a hurried rush I slipped off the bed to go listen outside the door. He had disappeared, and had apparently enough time to pack his bags and every last one of his portraits. The news meant nothing to me. I couldn’t find it in me to be angry at him. I had known what he was from the start, hadn’t I? It was as useless as being angry at a pig for rolling in the mud. I found myself more upset at not having been listened to. When Minerva came out she was Dumbledore, and I didn’t hide the fact that I had listened in, just stood aside and glared at her.

“I really am sorry, Albus,” she said through Dumbledore’s beard. “Poppy assures me Severus will be as good as new, as if nothing happened.”

“But it did happen, and he had nearly died, Minerva! Even if he didn’t die he was in a lot of pain, no, he is still in a lot of pain, and that’s not nothing! Kindly don’t talk to me again,” I said, for the so manyth time hating my childish voice for not bringing my full wrath over as clearly as I felt it. I turned my back on her.

“I’ll be in the ministry with Amelia if you need me. Don’t worry, we will find him.”

“I don’t care.”

* * *

Every professor and their friend found a reason to come see Snape. Lockhart seemingly had time after he had overheard Snape and Minerva’s call to spread the word about me being a horcrux, and as the only Snape awake between me and Severus, they concentrated their worried and curious questions on me. In the end I took to hiding away when they came, and Poppy dealt with them after that. Which meant she didn’t have her eye on me.

By now I had turned ‘slipping away from my babysitters’ into an art form. The trick was to get them relaxed enough to stop paying attention. For Poppy this meant I forced myself to eat the lunch that she brought up for me, took a nap right next to Severus at my usual time, and made lots of trips to the bathroom until she got used to me coming and going. On my last trip I slipped Severus’s wand into my pocket and did not return.

Outside the Infirmary I legged it to the hidden passage behind an old rusty knight, ending up near the library. From there I slipped behind a threadbare tapestry to the kitchens and yet another passage led me out of the school, close to the shrieking shack, bypassing the whomping willow.

I should ideally have waited until after dinner, for bedtime, before running off. That would have given me a whole night’s head start before I was missed by Poppy and Minerva, but I had heard Poppy say she was going to decrease the dose of his sleeping potion. Severus had a sixth sense for my disappearances and I would rather not have to try and get past him even half asleep.

The grounds were empty, and I had to refrain from running across it. People noticed fast movement quicker than they did slow and wizards and witches were no different. I was aiming for the Forbidden Forest. Nearing the dark treeline my feet slowed on their own accord and I found myself trembling in sudden childish fear. There were big spiders there. That ate people. That’s not even starting on what else there was according to the students, poisonous plants and things that went bump in the night just looking for a small sized snack. _And no one to save you_ , for Point Me and searching spells did not work in the forest. That was what I was bargaining on. It was easy slipping away from someone but it was damn hard staying lost if that someone had a wand. I didn’t have the cloak to hide myself under or I could have stayed in any empty classroom in the castle and no one would have been able to find me.

Outside the treeline I hesitated. I could go back and take what was coming to me. I had a good year, didn't I? It would be the decent thing to do, to give Dumbledore his body back, they all wanted him back anyway. Unsure, I turned around to look at the castle that now glowed invitingly in the afternoon sun. I should return, accept my fate, maybe spend the night writing farewell letters… No. I didn’t want to die. With that decided, I took a fortifying breath… And another. One more. _Okay, you can do it_. Just one step…


	10. Who needs sleep?

The night was cold. Sitting hunkered down between the roots of a massive oak tree, the only plant I could safely name, I spent some time wishing for a jumper and then some more time bewailing magic. What was the use in it if it wasn't available in your time of need? I had Snape's wand, but the last thing I wanted to do was get known as the kid who had burned down the Forbidden Forest, so I just kept hold of it for what comfort it could give. Which was not much, its owner was going to have a blind fit when he woke up to find me gone.

Dinner time came and went, announced by the rumble of my stomach. I had a bread roll tucked away from lunch, and the last two of the ice mice that Percy had sent to choose from. If my teeth chattered, would that announce my presence to all the predators just waiting for a tasty child to pop up in their smelly den? Or would the sound be so strange that they would steer clear of the little spot I had burrowed out for myself? I hugged my knees tighter.

Something rustled behind me and touched the back of my neck...

My return to the castle was not as well thought out as my exit had been. I went running and screaming, crashing through the undergrowth like my tail was on fire, making a bee-line for the secret entrance I had come from. It took me less than a minute to reach the shrieking shack, even with tumbling over what felt like every second rock in the dark.

It was a relief to be back. For hours now I had tried to psych myself up to go deeper into the forest, farther than the first tree I had come to, but my heart just wasn't in it. I had never even gone camping before, and so very much didn't want to become one with the woodland creatures. But where else would I go? It would take them one spell to find me outside the forest and if by some way I managed to escape their world then the first Muggle to stumble over me would either skin me and have me for dinner or drop me at the nearest police station. What would I tell them? That I'm not really a child? I could see how that would go down already. It didn't even go over well with the three people who knew I had been an adult before.

* * *

The secret tunnels brought me out near the Infirmary again. It was too much to hope they hadn't missed me yet, and I slowed to a crawl to get my story straight. Went for a walk and did not pay attention to the time? Yes, that would have to do. I squared my shoulders, raised my chin and walked to the Infirmary doors, only to stop short at Severus's raised voice, thundering from within.

"Poppy, if you do not release me this minute I won't be liable for my actions!"

"Now, Severus," Minerva answered, while Poppy murmured something too soft to hear from where I stood rooted with nerves. "We are all looking for him, one more person won't make a difference," Minerva said.

"I'm not one more person, I'm his father!"

"That might be but you can't go anywhere with a broken leg, you won't do him any favours by harming yourself! And where will you look for him that we can not?"

"He'll be in the damned forest!"

"Hagrid is looking there."

He was? I hadn't seen the half-giant at all. It was true then, whether you're lost two meters in or two-hundred, the forest's magic would not give you up. The thought made me shudder and the feeling of something touching my neck again was so realistic that my feet forced me towards safety, into the large medical room, uncaring that I was not ready yet.

Severus was lying flat on his bed, his pillows in disarray, Poppy and Minerva grouped around him. Both women had their wands out and trained on Snape. They all turned as one at my noisy entrance.

"Albus! Where have you been?" Minerva asked, her voice immediately rising to the high, familiar scolding tone. "We've been searching everywhere for you!"

I ignored her to look to Snape. He seemed to be in a bodybind, only able to turn his head, and it was as always near impossible to try and figure out what the spy was thinking.

"Albus," he said. "Do you have my wand?"

I nodded. If I spoke now I would burst into tears. Frightened, sorry, or tired tears, which I didn't know, I felt a massive bawl coming.

"Then put it in my hand."

"Severus, that is not a good idea," Poppy said. "If you get up now, you might damage your nerves permanently."

"I will not get up, Poppy, but I will not be restricted for one more second," he told her before pinning me down with his signature dark look. "Now, Albus."

"Don't you dare—" Minerva started. She moved to block me, but I darted around her to the bed.

Poppy stopped me with a hand on my head. "Wait, Albus, I will do it. This way it will not hurt Severus," she said, and without further delay cast a charm over him, the magic rippling in yellow waves over his body until he sagged down under the covers. I put his wand in his hand anyway in case he felt the need to hex someone, while Poppy removed a large leaf from my collar. Well, that's embarrassing.

* * *

"Explain yourself, Albus!" Minerva ordered. "We thought you had been abducted by Lockhart!"

They did? Why would they even think that, the man had left ages before me. No, I wasn't going to talk to her, besides Severus hadn't thought so. Why else would he say I was in the forest? Severus, who also nine times out of ten would stand with me against the force of her ire. Safe haven was but a step away! Fighting the threatening tears, I tried getting up onto his bed while simultaneously sticking my fingers in my ears, but was stopped yet again by the Mediwitch.

Poppy diverted me from my path by catching me up into her arms and swinging me away from my goal. "Not now, Albus. You have half the forest on you and Severus is ill."

"It's fine, Poppy," Severus said.

"It is not. Bath first."

"Poppy," said Minerva. "He can take a bath when I am done with him!"

"Best inform everyone that he's been found, dear. He needs his dinner and bed more than a scolding right now, and I am sure Severus will want to take care of the latter."

And with that she carried me out of the room to the Infirmary's bathroom.

* * *

I let Poppy do as she wished. Which was to run a warm bath for me with a ton of bubbles. She went on to examine my skinned knees and every scrape and bruise that I had picked up in my hasty return, healing them one by one, all the while murmuring gentle directions for me to move here or lift there.

"Why aren't you angry?" I asked her when I felt sure that I wouldn't cry.

"It is not my place to get upset with you, I will leave that to Severus and Minerva."

This was enough for me to splash the water about. "Minerva has no right! Not after Lockhart!"

"Then you need to tell her that. Preferably not while you have your fingers stuck in your ears. Arm, please." I extended my arm and she proceeded to give it a good scrub with a soapy washcloth, telling me, "I'm just glad you're back and in one piece, try not to worry Severus more tonight, hm? He is not to get out of bed until after breakfast if we want his leg to heal properly. Honestly, I would like to have a go at Mr. Lockhart myself. Other arm."

* * *

Minerva was nowhere to be seen, and Severus appeared to be sleeping again when we returned. I was now scrubbed pink, and dressed in a clean set of the pajamas that she kept on hand for the students, and also exhausted. Poppy propped me up on the bed next to his with a dinner tray.

The meal turned out to be a thick soup and a grilled cheese sandwich cut into small bite sized squares. I had thought myself too upset to eat, but with no eyes on me except those of the Mediwitch I soon found my appetite returned and scarfed the lot down.

By the time I was done I could barely keep my eyes open and brushed my teeth with a heavy arm before letting her help me back into bed. Poppy tucked me in with a kiss on the forehead—of all things!—and turned off the lights.

* * *

I couldn't sleep.

The bed was harder than my own. The shape of the large room in the dark was unfamiliar, especially with my glasses off, so I put them back on and then had to contend with the hard metal frame being squashed into my face.

Opposite me Snape seemed to be having no such problems, his even breathing loud in the room. Instead of soothing me it had me suddenly worried. Did someone remove Chucky's evil twin or was he still waiting in our rooms for me…? Yeah, no, I can't stay here. With that thought in mind I slipped out of the bed and crossed the floor to him, and this time with my fingers out of my ears it was easier to climb up onto the bed. Where he held the cover open for me to scoot in. Oh. When I hesitated he pulled me in and tucked the cover over me.

I wiggled to get comfortable. This was not the first time we had shared a bed, we've been to a few hotels where he refused to order a room just for me and we made do with a double bed. His family members also seemed to think that a four-year-old needed to sleep with their parents still. I usually ended up sprawled over him, which he did not seem to mind, but this time I tried to consider his injury. "Am I hurting your leg?"

"You're not even touching it. Sleep, Albus."

I wiggled some more, starting to feel far from sleepy. "Maybe I should go back to my own bed?"

He tucked me closer to his chest and settled his arm around me. "Sleep."

But there was too much to talk about. In all the mess I never got to tell him that it wasn't me that took his knife, no matter how it looked, and I had a lot to confess before I died tomorrow. Where to start?

"I'm sorry I ate the mouse!"

"What?" Snape asked. I could feel his chin moving on my head. "What mouse?"

"The one you said will spoil my lunch, I didn't mean to! I thought you were going to die!"

"I don't remember it, Albus. Am sure if I did I would forgive you for eating sweets when you were stressed. Sleep. We can talk about it in the morning."

I ignored him. Sleep was for the pure of heart, the weak, those who had not spent a year lying… It was confession time. "And I'm sorry about your shoes, it was me that took it."

The same aunt that had brought me the plum coloured robe that I was going to burn if I survived tomorrow, had brought him the ugliest pair of highly fashionable shiny black lace-ups that had points a mile long and sharp enough to poke an eye out.

"I know. You woke at four in the morning to give it to the garbage men. You don't have to worry about it, I didn't like the shoes either."

"The garbage pickup was at seven, I gave it to the homeless guy who does the rounds before they come. He didn't want it either, I had to _pay_ him to take it." Out of my pocket money too. That was a sad day for fashion _and_ my sweet tooth.

"I'm not surprised," Snape said.

Was he laughing at me? Let me rectify that.

"I did not take your knife though, so I'm not sorry about that."

"I know."

I squirmed in his arms. "It wasn't me, it was that horrible doll!"

"I know, Albus."

"It was going to kill me!"

"Albus, I know."

"Then you should apologise to me." Righteous indignation was a great thing. Feeling completely awake, I struggled out of his hug to sit up and peer at him in the half dark. Poppy had left a light on near the door only, and it did enough to break the pitch black into a dim twilight, but I still had to squint. "Well?"

He raised himself up on one elbow. "You want me to apologise for asking if you took my knife?"

"Yes."

"Hm. How did the doll get ahold of it, do you know?"

"Are you saying I gave it to him?"

"I'm implying it yes," Severus said, still sounding amused. Why wasn't he angry? Did Poppy give him some happy potions? She certainly gave him a lot. "Do you have any idea whose soul fragment you are carrying?" he asked.

"No! How should I know?! What does that have to do with the knife?"

"Arthur and I had a great talk after you fainted. He figured the leftover soul fragment used your unstable magic to escape into the animated toy, it’s easier to control than a person. It was most likely planning to kill yo-someone in the hope that it could replace their soul. It might have worked too if you were not such a brave little Gryffindor."

Not a Gryffindor, they were all so _busy_. "I'll be a Snake," I protested.

"You're too impulsive to be a Snake."

"Am not." Did he really mean to say that Dumbledore had tried to kill me? But that would mean the wizard was evil, and if he was then I had to be also. It was the Law of Inserts. We had to be alike. "Maybe he just wanted to cut himself out of the box, how did he get the knife anyway if he was in the box, do you mean he got out, fetched the knife went back into the box and hacked out of it again?" That sounded extremely stupid.

"He most likely Accio'd it, using your accidental magic."

"Without me knowing? You're wrong anyway, he wouldn't kill me!"

"So you do know whose soul it was."

"No!" I insisted. Rule two of lying, _keep at it_. But it was so preposterous, the Dumbledore in my dream had been creepy, not murderous, and I couldn't help but add, "Even if I knew who it was, he wouldn't have tried to kill me, he wasn’t evil!" I was sure of it. Severus would have known that too if he knew just whose soul I carried.

"You only have a fragment of this person's soul. Fragments don't have morals, Albus. They have a goal, to possess a body and gather their missing parts."

"So if you wanted to you could exchange me for him?"

"If we wanted to do Dark magic, yes. If we wanted to bring something corrupt back to the world because he will never be the same as before. There's a reason necromancy is frowned upon and you should know this. In fact you should know a lot more than you do, don't you think it is time that you came clean?"

"I washed. Poppy helped me." I scurried off the bed before he could stop me and retreated back to my own. "I can't help it if I don't remember stuff!"

Behind me Severus sighed. " _Sleep_ , Albus."

Albus, he said. This was all so confusing. If only I had an idea which Albus he preferred! Then I would know if it was safe to tell him who I was. Just because he didn't like doing Dark magic now didn't mean he wouldn't want to do it once he heard whose bloody fragment I was carrying.

This time when I lay down in bed I removed my glasses and thumped my pillow, turning my back to him. But sleep was impossible. My mind kept hammering away at the problem. He might say they will get rid of the fragment but he didn't know that I was the interloper, did he? Yes, sure he knew I was hiding something, he was not stupid, but without knowing about my world it was impossible for him to know what exactly happened.

What if I wrote him a letter to explain everything? He liked making me write letters, didn't he? That might make him happy. I could leave it on his desk to find after they exorcised me. But it would be unfair to let him find it after I died. He had done so much for me this year, surely I owed it to him to tell him the truth before leaving, even if he was going to hate me…

"Albus. Are you crying?"

"No." I sat up, scrambling for my glasses. "I'm not Albus! I'm an Insert from another world! Your Albus died of a heart attack but I didn't kill him, I swear! He said so!"


	11. Nothing but the truth.

Oh, God. Once I started spilling my guts I couldn't stop. The semi-dark made it difficult to see his face and thus easy to let go of my deepest secrets. I told him everything. There were tears, and I'll be honest, a few 'I don't want to die's. To my utmost shock Severus did not freak out, go wild, or anything even remotely in that line. In fact he made me move back to his bed to be hugged.

"Did Poppy give you a happy potion? Is that why you're not shouting at me?" I cried against his chest.

"Why would I shout at you when you're finally telling the truth, it seems an odd way to reward you."

"Reward me?" What?

"Reward the behaviour you want your child to keep," Snape said. "You've read the manual Poppy gave me, I know you did. Chapter five."

"It's not a manual, it's just a childcare book!" There's thousands and they all contradict each other! "I can't believe you're raising me out of a book!"

"Books are from the tools that we use to educate our next generation, you know this Albus, you were a teacher—ah, yes, you weren't one, right? What did you do in your other life?"

Well okay, I had not told him _everything._ "Nothing." Oh, that won't work, we're trying the truth out. Which had been going surprisingly well and I might just keep it up after this. "I mean, I did things but I don't want to tell you and I don't want to tell you my name. Have you at least read other books also? Or are you just going on one person's opinion."

"The author is a renowned children's psycholo—"

"I don't want to know!"

"Don't shout," he said mildly. "And you don't have to tell me your name or anything else that you don't want to. As far as I am concerned you are still Albus Snape, my son. I don't need to know more."

This was too good to be true. There must be a catch. Perhaps a test was in order. "I was a girl," I told him, crossing my arms and glaring at him, just in case.

"Yes?" He laughed. The bastard actually _laughed._ "Well, that makes sense."

"How does it make sense!" I asked, twisting away, and he hissed when the movement jarred his leg. "Sorry!"

"It's fine. To answer your question it makes perfect sense considering the way I found you after the feast."

Oh, God. Inspecting myself in the mirror. Where to stick my head in?! I tried slipping off the bed, but only Snape's leg was out of action, he plucked me back by my shirt and asked if he needed to cast a sticking charm on my butt.

"No!"

"Then sit quietly, you're not going anywhere. Do you want to be a girl? If so we can get you dresses and—"

"I don't!" I didn't. I hadn't thought about it more than oh my god how will I pee, but after a year I was used to this body, and truth be told, I actually considered myself a boy.

"That's fine then. If you change your mind later you only need to say."

Oh, God, this was so embarrassing. I tried to pull away again. It seems while I was in the Forbidden Forest, Snape here had been bodysnatched. Where's the man that would lob me out of the nearest window or at least ground me until I was fifty? I scooted to the edge of the bed. I need to go call Poppy, this could still be from Lockhart's spell. "I'll be back, I just need to—"

"Stay where you are, Albus. Once the Unspeakables have done their job you can go run around as much as you please but until then you will stay in my sight."

He had told me now twice over that the spell to get rid of the soul fragment was a simple one and reassured me each time very patiently that I wouldn't die. Still, the mere mention had me forget his current weirdness to burst into renewed tears. "I don't want to die!"

While he patted my back and soothed yet again, a thought sprung forward. They knew! That's why he wasn't currently going nuts on me! "You knew!" I cried. "Since the feast!?"

"Yes," Snape said, continuing to pat my back. "Did you take us for idiots?"

Yes, I did. To an extent. Well, not really, it was more that I WANTED to believe I was getting away with it. Better not to answer, it was much safer to cry some more into his already damp pajama shirt and hopefully he would not repeat his question.

He explained to me while I sobbed away. Their theory up to now had been that I was a child that fooled around with something I shouldn't have, ending up in me switching bodies with Albus, Freaky Friday style. They've all seen the films, it's a prank often played on the Muggles. Not wanting to harm a child, they observed me long enough to realise it wouldn't have been on purpose—it took less than a week—then had Aberforth visit for tea to confirm. I sealed my fate by not recognising the wizard at all, though he in turn did recognise his older brother's childlike iteration.

It never occurred to them that I came from a different world. I certainly knew too much about them and everything else, though not enough about magic to teach a plimpy how to walk so they figured I was Muggleborn. Every last searching charm for their Dumbledore pointed straight at me. Their Albus was gone. Certainly if he was around he would have found a way to contact them. Albus would not have wanted them to take their grief out on a child, though, and after long discussion with Aberforth they decided to wait me out.

It all seemed so ridiculous, so I picked out the only part that made sense. "I'm not a _child_."

"Yes? How old were you before the switch?"

Oh, God. No, I didn't want to say. "Idon'twanttosay and you said I didn't have to."

"Four, then. And it is time you got some sleep. In the morning we will tell Minerva and Poppy your story, you might like to apologize to them for lying all this time and we can all leave it at that."

Just like that. Everything was fine, Albus, we'll continue as before—wizards were weird. I expected some shouting at _least._ Tomorrow I'll ask Poppy to check if Snape was who he said he was. "I'm not going to apologise anything to Minerva, she didn't believe me about Lockhart."

"That again? You do realise that if you had confessed the truth earlier we might have trusted your insider's knowledge about our… books? It's disappointing that you haven't read more than four books, we'd all be very interested in knowing the rest."

War. Everyone died. "It's not going to happen anyway, we've stopped Vol—the diary!" I jumped up. "Severus! Lucius was going to plant a diary on Ginny, it was a Horcrux—"

"For the Dark Lord, yes. The Aurors got them all, Albus. We discussed it in a meeting, you were there."

What? "We had a meeting with the Aurors? I think I would have remembered that."

"No, over tea with Minerva and Poppy. Poppy had to go play you—the real Albus—when Lucius stood trial for harbouring Dark Artifacts. Ah yes, I know why you weren't paying attention. There was cake."

Cake did not make me mindless, contrary to what they said. Their conversations were boring ninety percent of the time, I wasn't going to strain myself to listen in case there was something interesting between all the talk about schedules and parchment shortages. There was always some kind of shortage of something. "But he's still here, why is he not in jail?"

"If we jailed everyone that harboured Dark Artifacts we would all be having tea in Azkaban. He received a fine, that was enough."

"But he was going to give it to Ginny!"

"In your book. Not here. Arthur raided his house _here_ , we can't jail him for something that happened in a book or that he might have thought to do. Will there be more surprises like this? Diaries, basilisks, bookworlds—"

"No, I think we're done."

"Excellent. Sleep."

"You're all weird," I said while he made me blow my nose properly—I'm a kid, I'm allowed to use sleeves, or so I would have thought, but apparently not—and told me yet again to lie down and sleep. "You should be shouting, you're acting very strange," I repeated when he was finally done with all the wiping at my face.

"Not stranger than a child from another world, running about causing havoc." He pulled and tugged me until I lay down next to him. "Did you want me to shout?"

"No!"

"Good. Now, how many more times do I have to say sleep before you will actually listen?"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder."

* * *

The benefit of having had such a late night confession was that I did not wake up until after Snape had explained everything to Minerva and Poppy. Their main reaction was 'finally'. They wanted to know more about the idea that they were characters in a book in my world—"Preposterous!" said Minerva—but they decided to wait until it was a better time. One where I was not acting like a moody brat from having been kept up the whole night. Which, thankfully, they blamed on Severus.

All three of them conceded to my fears that I would be examined as an alien, and ran through a gauntlet of tests which could harm a small defenseless child, and agreed to keep my secrets from the Unspeakables. Another small, defenseless child, not me. At this Severus had a long coughing fit that did not fool me at all.

He did make me apologise to the two women for lying to them all this time.

"It was out of self preservation," I insisted.

"It was out of habit," Snape said. "One that we will be working on to eradicate," he continued, and gave an impromptu lecture on the value of telling the truth. Which was funny coming from a spy. Very funny. I tried to laugh.

" _Albus._ "

"I can write them a letter," I offered, meek under his glare, hoping to skip that funfest.

"No," Snape said. And that was that.

Face boiling, I apologised to Poppy and received a hug, got called dear, was told she had forgiven me months ago and was kissed yet again. Only Severus's most dire look prevented me from wiping it off there and then. To Minerva I apologised and immediately stuck my fingers in my ears so as not to hear her answer.

Removing Dumbledore took one spell cast simultaneously by the two Unspeakables. I felt a pinch that tugged right behind my left ear, the magic buzzing through my head, and when I opened my eyes to find myself still in our sitting room and not in a train station, I collapsed into a relieved heap, bawling my eyes out.

I had a good cry.

A proper one.

I took my time with it. I deserved some emotional release. And no, last night's cry didn't count, it was peanuts to this one. This one had been building the whole year.

"I thought I'd cry less when I was five!" I wailed inanely at one point during the bawl to Severus who was patiently walking me up and down our sitting room, Minerva and Poppy having shown themselves and the two Unspeakables out.

"You might still," Snape said. "Your birthday isn't until tomorrow. Shhh…" he soothed. "There's no need for all these tears, think happy thoughts. Aren't you excited for your cake?"

"I don't want it!"


	12. Breakfast of champions

"Did you really know immediately that I wasn't your Albus?" I asked him the next morning, tackling him in his bedroom, poking him on his large nose until he opened his eyes to scowl at me. I would have sworn I had them all fooled.

I had spent the previous day in bed, as tired as Arthur had warned, with enough time to mull everything over. Endlessly. Over and over again. In between all the mulling I had slept enough to last me a week and woke before sunrise. Waking at five was an aberration for me. I did not like it, and if I had to be awake then others needed to suffer too. "I know you suspected, you tried to catch me out enough times, but when did you _know_?"

"I knew for sure when we were at the Ministry. What's the time?" He yawned and sat up, moving back against the headboard.

Really? When I was at the ministry? It was ages ago and I couldn't remember half of what we did there. It was also in the first month that I came here. "The Ministry?"

He misunderstood and clarified. "The time you ran away to Molly's."

"I didn't run away to her, I was sidetracked there. When exactly did you stop believing that I was your Albus?" I thought I had them fooled for a few months at least, not so early. And all the time I thought I was fooling them they were actually doing the same to me. I don't know if I liked it. At all.

"I think your exact words were: 'Voldemort is alive and on the back of Quirrell's head!'"

"How did that tell you I wasn't him!"

"It was such a childish thing to say, Albus. Happy Birthday by the way." He tugged me up onto the bed and into a squashing hug and smacked a kiss on my hair. I flapped my hands at him in irritation. What was with all this kissing suddenly?! "How does it feel to be five," he asked.

"I don't like it."

"You want to be older?" he asked, a strange inflection to his voice.

"Yes. I want to be eleven already, five feels no different to four."

"Do I want to know why eleven?"

"Magic." I pushed my face millimeters from his just to see him go cross-eyed, that was always a treat. "And speaking of magic, you said I could get my wand back on my birthday. Which is today. So. Hand it over."

"Really, Albus? That is how you want to do it? Try: Daddy, may I please have my wand back, I have learned my lesson and will not colour the furniture ever again. Say that and I might consider it."

"Consider it!" I struggled up and out of his arms. "You said I would get it back, you said nothing about considering it!"

"At that point I still had no idea that you were actually from another world or that you did not know the first thing about handling wands safely."

"Percy taught me—" Ah, fuck. I clasped my hands over my mouth. Oh, wait, I didn't have to hide it anymore, did I? Oh, it was all so confusing!

"No more lies," Snape said, pulling my hands away. "I don't mind Percy Weasley teaching you, you can do worse. What exactly did he teach is what I want to know. How do you handle a wand safely, Albus? Answer that and I will tell you if you can get it back."

"I don't want to. It's silly."

"There's nothing silly about being safe," Snape said, sounding more like he should be Percy's dad than mine. "Do you want your wand back or not?"

I did. I had plans for it.

"Fine." Percy had drilled it into me by the lake one day, and I still remember it word for word. I ticked it off my fingers. "One. Keep it in your sleeve unless you want to use it. Two. Always ask permission before casting a spell on someone. Three. Never point it at anyone in anger. Four. Never point it at anything you're not willing to destroy. Five. Always know your target and be aware of what is behind it. Six. Hexing someone will have dire consequences, Albus. Seven. Never take your wand out when you're drunk."

Snape blinked.

"Well? Is that good enough? Can I have it?"

"Remind me to have a word with Percy. New rule, you can only cast spells that I approved."

"That's so boring." And a very useless rule since I can only do the colouring one STILL.

"Agree to it and I will also teach you some more spells—"

"I agree!"

"Good. You can get if after we've slept some more, this is too early." I had no option. He grabbed me into a cuddle and settled back down, closing his eyes. "Wake me at eight."

* * *

I didn't want to go out of the rooms and face Minerva and Poppy. Yesterday was such a stressful and confusing mess of a day, that it didn't really sink in that they now knew all about me. They were going to hate me.

When Snape finally let me get up and send me off to get ready for the day, I hid in my room and busied myself with inking horns on all of Lockhart's pictures.

He found me still at it. "Why are you not dressed?"

"I'm not hungry, you can go eat if you want," I said.

He came closer to feel my forehead and tsked when he saw what I was doing. "Stop that. You'll need a bath if you're going to get ink all over yourself."

Which was a great idea. I promptly turned the inkpot over my lap. "Sorry!"

"Bath," he ordered.

I took the longest bath in the history of baths, I bathed so long that Severus came to help me. Then I diverted him on clothes, getting him to make sure there was no Chucky in my closet and refusing each outfit he chose.

"What's going on with you, Albus?"

"Nothing! I just don't like the clothes, I'm allowed to not like something, am I not?"

"Let's try the truth this time."

Okay, I'm game. "Poppy and Minerva will hate me."

"For what?"

"You know."

"No, I don't. Was there anything else you hid from them?"

"No!"

"Then you are just making drama now. Both of them had forgiven you months ago and they told you so yesterday. You might have heard Minerva say it if your fingers weren't in your ears. Stop that by the way, we all approved Lockhart, she had not done that alone." He picked a light green robe out and made me dress. He always subconsciously picked something green, the snake. "Move it, Albus. This is your birthday, no one is going to spoil it for you with recriminations."

Even so I dragged my feet down the halls.

All my delay was for naught. We made it to breakfast with plenty of time to spare, the meal scarcely started.

"Our birthday boy!" Dumbledore called from the middle of the Great Hall where he stood amidst a group of teachers old and new, all wearing pointy party hats. He was resplendent in a glittery silver robe, a huge pink ribbon tied to his beard. The room was filled with balloons and streamers covered the floor. It all looked very festive. Everyone turned to look at me. I hid behind Snape.

* * *

Breakfast was a feast in my honour. And also in Poppy's, since she was playing the older version of me this morning. She collected me from my hiding spot, smiling with the full blue eyed twinkle, and plopped a shiny red party hat on my head before swinging me up in a wide circle. "Happy birthday, little Albus! Let's have a party!"

Everyone felt the need to comment on our shared birthday, which would not have been so odd if we hadn't shared names also. And eye colour. And we were wearing the same glasses. Both of which they hadn't noticed. Were they all blind?

"Daddy always liked him so much that when I was born on the same day they named me after him," I told Flitwick when he mentioned it, handing me a small package.

"True. I also enjoyed Beedle the Bard's stories when I was his age. If he was born two days earlier you would be saying happy birthday to Beedle Snape," said the Dungeon Bat. Silence fell around us. "I'm joking," he clarified to the stunned group.

Oh God, the poor man had just made his first dad joke. No one was ever going to laugh at his jokes again. It was going to be downhill from here. I patted his hand consoling. "It was very funny, Daddy."

"Indeed. Open your gift."

The gift was a small coin bank in the shape of a white elephant, and extremely cute. It also rattled and I peered inside the small slit on its back to spy a Galleon inside.

"It's a goblin tradition to add a coin to such a gift," Flitwick explained, showing me how the elephant's trunk moved to take the coin you held out. "It will also gather any change lying around the house so if you see him roaming he's after fallen treasure." I thanked him, showing my best manners, while inside I screamed in terror at having another animated toy. I still held fast to my goal to be polite to the teachers for Snape's sake though, and did not let my horror show. It was working in my favour today as each had a small gift for me. Next to me Dumbledore exclaimed in happiness over a pair of plain brown socks.

Hagrid's gift brought Snape to despair. A Flobberworm farm. "It's a good start for young' uns to learn responsibility for pets. Da' gave me the same when I was five, I still have their great-great-great grandchildren's children's children on my windowsill, they do live a long time if not used for potions," Hagrid said, eyeing Snape who had trouble hiding his disgust.

The farm was very similar to a muggle ant farm except much larger. It was filled with slimy green mud and held three ten inch long worms. That just lay there.

"Thank you, Mr Hagrid. I'll make sure my Daddy doesn't use them. Do they do anything?"

"They mostly eat and sleep," Hagrid told me very seriously. "The males blink once every few years, that's how you know their sex." Then he proceeded to give me a parchment nearly as long as my arm with a full dietary schedule, restrictions and all.

"They are only useful in potions," Snape told me in an undertone when Hagrid had moved off. "I've never heard of a flobberworm farm in my life. Good luck."

Definitely I would need luck. Since the damn Bat had shown with Lockhart's doll that I wasn't allowed to return or hide gifts, I was going to have to be very wiley if I wanted to get rid of them. I shuddered. Which was cue for Sybill Trelawney to give me the psychedelic scarf she had knitted for me. A miniature of the one she had made for Dumbledore. The patterns swirled in a nauseating spiral, never stopping a second.

Teachers seemed to have no clue what gifts to give a five year old. Not one had thought of candy. I longed for Dumbledore's socks.

* * *

I was able to get Poppy aside to ask her if Severus Snape was Severus Snape. "Can you check? He's acting very strange."

"He is? What is he doing that's odd, dear?"

In for a penny in for a pound. "He's not shouting at me."

She frowned.

It took a minute to explain that no he wasn't abusing me when they weren't looking. That I was just worried about their extremely easy acceptance of my story. That they're ALL not shouting at me.

"We are not going to punish a five-year-old for something that wasn't his fault. Perhaps for the excessive amount of lies you told but then again we could have stopped that early on, it shouldn't have gone on for a year." She pursed her lips. I figured she had been a dissenter in the Let's Wait Him Out club. "And we also lied, didn't we? For that I apologise."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Albus. We could have solved this issue a long time ago and then you would not have been worried about it now. I can only hope we've all learned from it and will try being honest from this moment on."

What?

"Minerva did try to apologise for our ruse yesterday, but you had your fingers in your ears."

She did? Minerva's gift to me had been a Gringotts savings plan for minors in the name of Albus Snape, and it burned in my pocket. She looked up from where she sat conversing with Alastor, perhaps feeling my gaze from across the room, like the cat that she was, and gave me a small smile. Ah damn. I'm going to have to forgive her. I turned back to Poppy. "I would feel better if you did the spell on him anyway."

"Would you dear? It hadn't worked on you, after all."

* * *

"It is just like you to be unhappy that we are happy," Snape said when we walked back to our rooms. Behind us floated the small haul of gifts.

"Poppy told!"

"You didn't tell her it was a secret discussion."

"I thought it was implied when I took her aside." I scuffed my boot against the stone floor, feeling irritated. I'll definitely know better next time. "I'm not unhappy that you're happy, you can be happy."

"Hm."

"It just feels so…"

"So?"

"I don't _know_."

"You had a big secret that you worried about for a year and we didn't show what you think should be an appropriate response." He stopped short and went down on one knee to be eye level with me. The procession of gifts floated sedately past. "What you seem to be forgetting is that we are also to blame, more so because we are the adults here. I apologise for lying to you, Albus. It was not right. If it helps to know Poppy was against it from the start."

Perhaps I was overreacting. This world has a history of letting children do as they pleased. Magic warped their minds, was my personal opinion, look how no one turned a hair in the books beyond taking a few paltry points. If he lied to me… "Can I ground you?"

"No."

"Can I be ungrounded?" I still had a week.

"No. It is an unrelated issue."

I couldn't even remember _why_ I had been grounded but it was probably not a smart thing to say. For good measure I gave him a glare and stuck my bottom lip out. To no effect. I was starting to feel somewhat better though. "I'll give you three Flobberworms if you unground me."

"No." He straightened up and started again down the hall.

"Three Flobberworms and one Galle—"

"No."

Fine.

"Have you ever had a beard?"

"No." He missed a step. "What?"

"Poppy didn't spill one crumb in her beard, I watched her the whole time. I think I found egg in mine and there wasn't even egg at the feast! I keep wondering if it was leftover from his breakfast that day. Did he used to spill food in his beard? Because maybe Poppy should start, someone may notice. Minerva once came back with ketchup in it but she pretended it wasn't there when I pointed it out and—"

Grounding might have been a childish thing to want to do to him, but there was a more fun way to make him sorry. I kept up my prattle on Minerva's eating habits and halfway down the long hallway I started walking in circles around him.

"—so if you grow a beard I can braid it when I'm bored, like when I'm grounded with nothing else to do. Is there a potion that makes hair grow?" And wasn't it a great thing that I could now ask him anything I wanted? I had stored a lot of questions up this summer to ask Percy. "Or a potion that colours it without having to put chemicals in your hair—that would be amazing! They are not really good for kids, you know. The chemicals. And if I wanted my hair pink I would have to bleach it first before they can colour it, it's too dark." I turned and walked counterclockwise around him. "Would you let me colour my hair pink?"

"You want to have pink hair?"

"Green. But not Slytherin green, more like Flobberworm slime green—are you sure you don't want the Flo—"

"No."

"No, you're not sure or no you don't want them? It will save you money if you just use mine, you know. I can give it to you for free, you don't have to do anything for them. It's the worst—no second worst gift I have ever received. I'm only praying I get nicer stuff at the party." This reminded me that Snape himself had not given me any gift. I twisted to walk clockwise again, and while Snape pinched his nose for patience—ha!—I bit my tongue not to ask.

Christmas he had given me a stack of books, a mix of muggle and magical fiction, which was always the best kind of gift for me. He had given it early in the morning, but today nothing. Yet. Maybe it was something big. Maybe the party was the gift? Wait, I sounded spoiled. "I don't need to get any gifts, I am just saying. I already have a closet full of toys. As long as they enjoy the party I will be happy. I liked the socks they gave Dumbledore, but do you think Poppy exaggerated her happiness or does she really like brown that much—"


	13. Choose now

Severus only waited until we got to our rooms before he gave me my gift. Gifts. There were two of them. He Accio'd it from his room and they floated over, unwrapped. Not even a bow. Which was probably for the better for they were the worst gifts I had ever received, promptly taking first place on that particular list. At least I hadn't wasted any excitement on it by unwrapping them.

I'm not a fan of emotions. Oh, I can do the crying thing to release a plethora of stuff from sadness to irritation, and I can shout as good as anyone, but using words to convey my feelings was a definite no. So when Snape sat down with me on the sofa and offered me a choice between the antidote and adoption papers, telling me he had come to care for me and saw me as his son—he even used the L-word—my first thought was to run. Worst birthday gift ever. I scrambled to get off the chair but he popped me right back and on the third escape attempt did a sticking charm on my butt. My second thought was to make a joke.

"What if I take both? Will you be able to handle a hundred and thirteen year old son?"

"What have I been doing this last year?"

I hopped in my spot. "I'm not _really a hundred—"_

He sighed.

I scowled.

I contemplated the transparent vial that he had placed on the coffee table in front of us and the silvery liquid it contained. It worked, he had said. Tested on three rats. "So I can be old again and take over Albus's life? Everyone will be fine with it? Even though I can't do magic and don't know anything about the ministry and what about the school?"

"Minerva and Aberforth have been thinking about it. The plan was for Albus to step down this year and retire, whether you chose to be older again or not. He has a secluded beachfront cottage where I am sure you will be comfortable if you wanted to—"

"I don't." Alone on a beach with creaking knees and time ticking away—"I don't!"

"You don't want to go live in the cottage or you don't want to be an adult," he asked patiently.

"Both." For a year I've been running around Hogwarts and Magical Britain, doing everything possible not to think about the fact that I should actually be an adult. True, a very old one here but even back home I was definitely not a kid anymore either. I knew he was still working on an antidote but never thought he would be able to pull it off. I scowled at the Bat. What a stupid birthday present. He could have given it on any other day.

"We will support you in whatever you decide to do. This is why I am giving you a choice, Albus."

Stupid. Some days it took me an hour to decide between the last liquorice and bubblegum. I changed my scowl into a glare just to mix things up. "What if I don't want to be adopted by you?"

"Do you have any other ideas?" he asked, his face neutral.

"No." Spy Bat! Couldn't he just be like normal people for once and let me see what he thought about that?!

They had apparently been searching for my parents, through muggle and magical means, up until the moment I admitted to being from another world. Which was the day before yesterday. Quite a long time to persist with something so fruitless, wasn't it? That meant they didn't want me here, did they? This adoption was just an option to be kind or something… Well, he did use the L-word…

"You are not stuck with me as your only option," he said in a careful tone. "If you do not want to live with me then you just have to say, Albus. Molly adores you. Charlotte might like to have a little brother—"

"No!" The spoiled fake cousin that crowed over the fact that she was a year older than me every chance she got would just love to have me under her thumb. "I'd rather live in the forest with the Acromantulas!"

"There's no Acromantulas in the forest."

Oops.

He narrowed his eyes. "Is there?"

"I didn't put them there!"

"I didn't say you—This is something you know from your books?"

I nodded.

"I will have Hagrid look into it," he said.

Fat lot of good that will help. Just what did he think Hagrid was up to in that forest. "Fine, can I go now?"

"We haven't finished discussing the adoption."

"I don't want to be adopted. So, there. Done. Can I go now?" I was willing to crawl out of my pants if it would get me unstuck and away from this conversation.

He sat unmoving, his face an indecipherable sallow mask.

Oh.

I might have hurt his feelings.

"I meant by _anyone_. Next time you want to give me a birthday gift, make it a book! Can you unstick me? Can I go?"

"If that is what you want. Go, Albus." He did a silent finite. "Your party is in an hour, don't leave the rooms."

Released, I ran for my bedroom and the safe haven of my bed where I found solace under the covers. What I wanted did not matter! I was an adult, you can't adopt an adult just because they look fou—five! He'll just have to get over it!

* * *

"I don't want to go," I told him when he fetched me for my long-awaited party, plucking the covers off me.

"Nonsense. You've been looking forward to this day for months now. Will you walk or shall I carry you?"

"You can go without me."

"We won't possibly be able to eat all that cake without you," he said.

What? I scowled at him. Was I supposed to laugh? I wasn't in the mood for his jokes, he hadn't even blinked when I said I didn't want to be adopted, hadn't even tried to convince me—

"Carry it is," he declared and did so.

* * *

My party was held at The Burrow. Over the last year we had both been embraced by the Weasleys.

Ginny wrote me a ton of letters after our aborted adventure. In the beginning it was more questions about Harry than anything else, until he actually came to live with them. Then she quickly realised that he was not the hero she had been learning about since she was knee high, but an annoying eleven year old, not much different than Ron.

Molly and Arthur took us under their wing after I exposed Pettigrew. I got a large tin of fudge for Christmas and we received a jumper each in Slytherin green. It was soft and not lumpy at all. They also invited us over the summer for Harry's birthday and Snape dropped me off there whenever Poppy started talking about fresh air, leaving me in Percy's well paid care while he went off to do who knows what. Sleep he said. Percy was making a mint out of us.

Molly declared that the school was no place for a children's birthday party, especially since most of Severus's family was going to come, and insisted we use their garden.

We stepped out of their hearth and into their sitting room, and everyone that I knew in this world shouted: "Happy birthday!"

Even expecting it, I nearly strangled Severus in shock.

It was overwhelming. Usually I would make him put me down the second we stepped out of a Floo but this time I clutched myself to him and refused to let go despite our current contention. How did we know so many people! If the Malfoys were here I was going to bite someone.

For a few hours I managed to forget all about the impossible choices that had been set in front of me.

There was cake. They had charmed the confection into the shape of a very realistic looking dragon. I had to touch a scale before I believed it was icing. It seemed the gig was up about Norberta—can you blame me? I wasn't going to let the trio have all the fun and miss a dragon!—but Snape only said Happy Birthday with the rest and held me up to blow the candles on its spines. I was not yet blasé about magic and when the cake roared into life and started flying around the rafters in Molly's kitchen, singing the walls, I squealed and clapped my hands with everyone else. It took the combined effort of Severus, Arthur and two of Severus's uncles to get it down. Molly tsked and went off in search of Fred and George who suddenly was nowhere near the scene of the crime.

There were gifts and sweets and the Weasleys wasted no time in organising a Quidditch game, half of which was spent quibbling over which team got to have Harry. A barbeque was set up, the fire manned Disney-style by the utensils, plates stacked high with hotdogs flying around the air to whoever looked hungry.

There was also cousin Charlotte. Little blond pigtailed and blue eyed girl, all decked out in the most nauseating candy coloured ruffles, trying to best me at each and every one of the party games Poppy had set up. The girl was beyond irritating, objecting every time I won, informing me that they let me win because I was a baby of all things. The worst of it was that I couldn't hit her, bite her or kick her, for the simple reason that she was a six year old girl, and as such so very-very much younger than me. I'm sure she cheated too.

I ended up going to sulk on Snape's lap. I might not be too happy with him yet but he certainly was the lesser of the two evils.

Molly and Arthur had put a huge pavilion tent up in their backyard and most of the adults were enjoying the shade there, far enough from the children's noise. I skirted the women's hugging arms and cheek pinching fingers to where Severus sat arguing mildly with Arthur on the merits of improving Muggle studies. He made space for me on his lap without interrupting his tête-à-tête and passed his tea over to me for a sip.

"I wanted to hit her," I told him after making sure her parents were not in earshot. No need to explain to him who I meant.

"I'm glad you didn't."

"I'll just sit here for the rest of the party."

"You may sit here until you've cooled down. Find a non-violent way to resolve it, I am sure you can."

"This is my non-violent way, I call it hiding." I took over his half-eaten cake and stuck a heaped forkful in my mouth. The man was not a fan of sweet food which usually meant there was more for me.

I sat with Severus until I had scarfed another slice of cake and then went back into the fray. Unwillingly. In actual fact I was pushed unceremoniously off Severus's lap and told to go play. Behind me Molly said something about a haircut to Minerva.

* * *

The day was long and tiring but all that I had wished for. I was exhausted by the time we said our goodbyes, the sun having long since set. Severus carried me from the lantern lit garden to the Burrow, through the Headmaster's office and out of our Floo. The contents of our coffee table caught both our eyes. He set me on my feet.

"Brush your teeth and prepare for bed, I will tidy up here," Severus said and walked over to study his horrible gifts, "and put these away."

He picked up the vial and reached for the parchment but I got there before him. Grabbing it I stuck it behind my back.

"Don't throw it away!" I shouted.

"It was not my intention to discard them, Albus. Calm down. Have you changed your mind?"

"No." I had been thinking though. I did enjoy the day in the end, but whenever I had a breather from playing my mind went right back to worry away on this. Did I have the right to be adopted at my age? Was I play-acting and all this just a farce? It had all started with me having to pretend to be four years old but how much of that was still pretense? I liked being taken care of and—"You can throw the antidote, I don't want to be old."—surely there was something wrong with me… "You don't have to adopt me just because you feel responsible for me, I know I can't take care of myself… _economically_ … but I can be fine in an orphanage or somewhere where I am not a bother."

"Feel responsible? Did you miss the part where I said I had come to care for you as my own son, Albus? I lo—"

"But I'm an adult!"

"What was your solution to Charlotte's bullying."

What? What did that have to do with anything? "She wasn't really bullying me."

"She was. I had a word with her parents today so you can be sure it will stop. What was your solution?"

"I don't want to say."

"Do it anyway. I saw she left you alone so I know you had done something."

Fine. "I promised to give her a Galleon if she would stop talking to me."

"Child. Keep the adoption papers, and take your time to think about it. With it or without it you are my son. Go brush your teeth and go to bed."

"I don't have to be told these things you know."

"Which things? That I lo—"

"Aah! To brush my teeth! I'm going!"

He followed me to my bathroom and leaned against the open doorway. Eyeing him warily I set the papers next to the basin, well out of his reach, and took up my toothbrush. Minerva had been the organiser of our new rooms and had made sure my amenities were built child sized, supposed to grow along with me, so I had no problem reaching everything to brush my teeth. Which I did with fervor. Why was he looking at me like that?

I spat the minty foam out. "You don't have to watch me."

"Wash your face."

"I don't need telling!" I washed my face.

I had long since lost all body horror, and being small and overtired made your limbs lethargic so I let him change my robe to pajamas, saving me from the struggle. I stood next to my bed while he sat on the edge. All the while I clutched the parchment, not letting it go, only switching it from hand to hand to free my arm for the sleeves.

Was it so wrong to want it?

"If I did let you adopt me, can I change my name?"

His fingers stilled on my buttons. "You don't want to be called Albus?"

"No, I'm used to Albus. I thought I might add something."

"Such as?" he asked, taking an inordinately long time on the third button.

"Would you be okay with it if we made my middle name Severus?" What? There's a precedent! Ask Harry why he did it, how would I know. As for myself it would be nice to be truly part of him. This will make me two thirds Snape and only one third Dumbledore and this was as close to the L-word as I was willing to go. "I thought maybe it could be Albus Severus Snape?"

Severus's shoulders relaxed and he finished buttoning me up, straightened my collar, then held the covers open for me to climb in. I stuck the parchment under my pillow, daring him with a pre-emptive scowl to make a comment and let him tuck me in.

"You didn't answer me," I said.

His mouth twitched.

"I feel very honoured, Albus. But I think not—"

"What? Why!" I struggled out of the tightly tucked covers to sit up.

"Tomorrow I will show you our family tree and you can pick any name you fancy from there," Severus said. He prodded me to lie down and repeated the tucking process a second time. "Traditionally a child will be named after his grandfather." He stopped patting my blankets and for one horror filled moment I thought he was about to cry. He snickered. "And we will be considering the initials very carefully before you make such a big decision. Goodnight, Albus."


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've come to an end. I'd like to extend my thanks to all of you who accompanied me on this little journey, your kind comments made it more than worthwhile.

"Where are you going?"

Argh! I thought he was busy in his office. The week before school started was as overloaded as always and I could usually rely on not being missed for a while. Well perhaps idiotic to expect that on the first day. I half turned while opening the portrait, best not to lose momentum or I might yet be called back. "I'm going to say goodbye to Percy."

"You will have to start saying Professor Weasley."

"I know, Dad."

"That will be Professor Snape to you."

"Not a chance." One foot outside, one inside.

"You're going to call me Dad in class?"

I couldn't help myself, I turned back to grin cheekily at him. "I thought Severus."

His eyebrows climbed to high heaven. "Good luck with your detentions."

"Thanks, Dad!" I was eighty percent out of the portrait by now. Freedom was within my reach!

"Don't be late, we're leaving in half an hour!" he called after me. "Why do you want to go there anyway, you will see him tonight!"

"Secret!" I was out! And away!

"Don't run!" he ordered, sticking his head out into the hall as I skidded around the corner.

* * *

Percy had insisted I pass by his office before we left to Kings Cross station, as he had some Weasley wisdom to pass on before I started my career as Hogwarts student extraordinaire. Weasley wisdom and one secret. Like all the other Professors he had been here over a week already, doing the last prep for the new school year, but had refused to tell me anything, even through my daily nagging.

"Where are you off to, little Snape?" Professor Basil Fronsac's portrait called after me.

"Not so little anymore!" I shouted gleefully.

"Ask the hat for Ravenclaw!" he said, then immediately forgot about me to fall into a house fight with Professor Burke, the worst witch of them all. One day I was going to do something to her yet, she kept telling slytherin students to be nasty to mudbloods.

I closed my ears and left them to it, speeding up. After six years I could traverse the corridors blindfolded. I ran up the stairs, past the Great Hall where soon I would be sorted with boatloads of firsties, and up the main staircase to Percy's classroom.

My favourite Weasley was now our history Professor, and he flourished. He never went into the Ministry, as according to him being my babysitter had awakened his inner teacher. If all my 'why this' and 'why that's' were to blame, then frankly I was thankful for it. Without Voldemort's return or the Ministry splitting he never had any reason to break from his family either, and was currently happily engaged to one Audrey Smith who he had met two years ago on a trip to the States. She was quite likeable and Percy was going bald.

"I'm here!" I skidded around the open classroom door. "What did you want to tell me?!"

He turned from his desk and frowned. "Go back out, knock, and enter the room like you have manners."

"Wha!"

He grinned.

"Nice one!" I laughed and sprinted into the room. "Tell!"

"Breathe, Albus." He pointed to a chair in the first row and I plonked myself obediently into it. He's trained me well. In turn he leaned his bum back against his desk, stretching his legs out, taking his bloody time.

"I bet your dad told you no running in the halls. I'm honestly surprised you survived all these years, I like to take some credit for it, what do you say?"

"Yes." He has saved me from many scrapes and will probably save me from more in future. "A lot. Weasley Wisdom, please, and the secret."

"It would be wise to learn some patience."

I pulled a face.

Percy reached behind him and brought a small package from the desk and lobbed it over to me. "It is tradition that Mum would make us a sandwich for the Express. Here's yours."

"Grandma made it?" We've come quite a ways and have truly been adopted into the family. Dad had enough aunts and uncles to spare, but no living parents or grandparents. Molly saw a gap and filled it.

"Yes. It's going to be the worst sandwich she has ever made because she is always nervous about the sorting, so expect dry corned beef but eat it anyway, you can't survive on the tea trolley alone. She told me to make sure you wear clean socks, washed behind your ears and said to remind you that a second brushing of teeth won't go amiss, the compartments are small and you don't want to be the smelly kid."

"She wrote me already. Word for word, Percy." And I was probably going to see her at the station.

"She is scared she might miss you on the station," he said as if reading my mind. "Now, this is important, if anyone asks about the sorting then you have to tell them that there's a troll they will have to fight."

"Why?"

"Tradition, ickle firstie."

"Okay." Tradition was the key word of the day, he need not say more. After all that's why I was heading for the station, albeit trunkless, to start my school career in the proper, traditional way by arriving on the Hogwarts Express.

"You still want to be in Slytherin?"

"Yes." How would I change my mind from yesterday to today? Even Dad asked me the same this morning, after telling me to wash behind my ears. Huh. If so many people were reminding me, might there be a reason? I felt behind my ear and checked my fingers. It smelled fine.

"Have you asked the hat yet?" Percy asked.

"No." My stomach twisted just thinking of it. I have never put the hat on. In all these years not once. Truth be told I was scared to death of the hat. That will be the last test on whether I belong. Dad said I should quit worrying when I got my Hogwarts letter, that it's a done deal, but I can't help it. "I don't want to jinx it."

My fear was deeper than just exposure. What if it sent me back? Frankly it could put me any House it pleased as long as it kept me here. No assurance from anyone that the hat was just a weak spell and not an entity with special powers had managed to assuage this fear. At some point my life before had ceased to matter. Ceased to exist actually. If I remembered anything it was vague flashes when I encountered something familiar in the Muggle world. Like you would forget all about how it felt to be a toddler but remember that one time you got shouted at for putting a pin in a socket. It felt impossible that I had once been an adult. Dad said I shouldn't worry about it, that I probably never was a great one, and second time lucky.

"Just tell it what you want, it defers to the student's preference if they have any. We will all be happy for you wherever you end up."

"Harry said I'm going to be a Hufflepuff."

"Is that so."

"Ron said they would make a whole new house just for me and call it after a pest."

"I figure if the hat could do that then Fred and George would have been the founders of said house," he said seriously, trying and failing to hide a smile. "I think we can exclude Ravenclaw."

"I'm smart!"

"I will remind you of the time you gave me octopus arms."

"It was an accident!"

"I know. But it makes my point for me, if you were a pure Ravenclaw it would have been on purpose, for the advancement of magic, and I would have had the correct number of appendages, not twenty six."

We both shuddered. Every time Percy sneezed he grew another tentacle. It took some fast explaining to convince Dad it was not a prank. It also set Percy off on a teaching tangent on whether it was called tentacles or arms and legs. That was fun to watch, but only from a distance, not when you were stuck to a chair being pontificated at.

"Mind your manners when you're in class, my godson will not be called a spoiled brat, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. What about the secret only Weasleys know? Will you tell me now?"

He told me.

And just in time also. Behind him the classroom's Floo flared emerald green and Dad's face appeared. "Are you two about done? We will be late." He frowned at Percy. "There had better not have been an exchange of sweets, Weasley."

"Oh, that reminds me." Percy grinned and dug into his pocket to bring forth a galleon. He tucked it into my hand. "For the trolley. Share with your friends."

"Step through the Floo," Dad said. "I don't trust you not to get distracted on the way back."

I put the galleon in my pocket and it made friends with the one Minerva had given me at breakfast, clinking merrily together. I swore not one knut will go towards a pumpkin pasty, pumpkin juice or anything pumpkiny, even if whatever friends I made were allergic to everything else on earth.

"Thanks, Percy!" I hugged him hard.

* * *

Kings Cross station. In my six years I had been through the station countless times, as we traveled quite often over summers. But never at the start of the school. Not that I hadn't tried! But Dad refused to take me when I still needed to be accompanied, and afterwards made me promise to stay away until it was my time. According to him it was an experience that added to my first day and not something to squander on mere curiosity.

He was right.

The station was packed with wizarding families and pets, all milling about and noisier than the Egyptian Bazaar we had been to three summers ago. I had gotten lost there, and remembering, I automatically stuck my hand into Dad's. Oh, God, was I too old for that now?

He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and niftily pulled me out of the way of a trolley stacked high with trunks, a birdcage balanced precariously on top, tucking me close to his side. "Try not to get trampled."

We jostled and pushed our way through the crowd—did that kid's ferret wave at me?—until suddenly it parted and I could see the train in its full glory. The scarlet steam engine stretched off into the distance, a sign above saying Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.

"Maybe we can go home, this was a silly idea."

"Aww look who is an ickle firstie, ready to set the school ablaze," Ron Weasley's familiar voice teased from behind. Hands mussed my hair.

We turned to find Harry and Ron, flanked by Hermione and Ginny. All with shiny red and gold prefect's badges pinned to their robes. They looked large and intimidating, even though I had seen them last week squabbling over the last piece of Molly's pecan pie.

"We'll take him, Professor," Harry said. "No trunk?"

"It would be stupid to bring a trunk all the way here and back," I said and sniffed, pulling my nose in the air. I dropped Dad's hand surreptitiously. "I can make my own way."

"Of course you can," Ginny said, smoothing my hair back down with her fingers. "And you'll want to say goodbye to your Dad proper. We'll be in the front carriage anyway, did Percy tell you what you needed to do?"

I nodded.

"Good luck then squirt." She pushed something hard and round into my hand.

I had no time to tell her to stop calling me that for Molly and Arthur descended on us, and Molly immediately found some dust on my face, the woman's eyes were military grade radars! I was hugged and given last minute advice in loud voices to be heard over the crowd. My hair kept being messed up by the boys and fixed by the girls, Ron the worst offender until Hermione slapped his hands away. We felt like every other family. Beside us a boy was telling his sister to 'gerroff' and I winced in sympathy for the headlock he was in. Arthur pressed something into my pocket.

Then, finally it was just me and my Dad. "Here, this one is open, Albus."

"Percy said the best ones are at the back."

"Professor Weasley," he corrected again.

"We're not in school, Dad."

"Make it a habit from now, you don't want to embarrass yourself."

"I won't." I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the platform. "Hurry, maybe someone took it already."

"In that case you take the next carriage, there will be enough place for everyone," he said, but did stretch his legs to keep up when I said no other carriage would do. "Is this part of the secret? Do I get to hear about it?"

"Tonight, if it worked. Here!" Second to last carriage. Peering in through the window I saw no one, and made for the door but he pulled me back.

"Not so fast, Albus. Empty your pockets, you don't need that much money on the train."

"Aww." I handed over three Galleons.

"All of it."

I gave the last and he exchanged it for a few sickles, then pressed a package in my hand. "Lunch, there's enough to share and make sure to eat the apple."

"Yes, Professor, sir!" I saluted smartly and climbed the steps. There I turned and threw myself at him. "I'm going to be Slytherin! Bye Dad, love you!"

Behind him a family stood waiting patiently for us and—oh hell they heard, didn't they? Well it could have been worse, I could have been crying—I was not going to cry!

"Albus are you listening?"

"No. But I'm sure it's something like, behave, don't be the first one to lose points or don't fall out of the window. If I do lose points it will be Ron, he—"

"I said I love you, behave, don't fall out of the window. In you get."

The kid behind him grinned.

Then Dad stood back and finally—finally!—I was able to slip into the compartment. I only just sat down when the door opened again and the kid from the platform asked: "You waiting for anyone? Only I think all the others are full."

"No it's just me." I got up again to help him with his trunk and we struggled it overhead. "Why is it so heavy! Did you pack the kitchen sink?" Oh, not good. "Sorry! I meant—"

"Nah it's okay, Mum probably did. Half my closet is in there, she says the castle might be cold and she put extra food 'cos the trunk guy said it will stay fresh forever so we are experimenting."

"It's not cold, you'll be alright if you have slippers." The train whistled and gave a jerk. We both turned to the window to open it and hung out together, calling out a last goodbye. Dad walked a couple of steps with us when it finally started moving, but the kid's Mum ran all the way, frantically waving a scarf and shouting last minute instructions. "Don't forget to brush your teeth and wash behind your ears!"

" _Mum!_ "

* * *

Then it was just us. I closed the window and he went over to do the same to the door.

"How do you know you'll be in Slytherin?" he asked. "The book said the sorting is a secret, but I heard a kid say we'll have to fight a troll. Was he right? Do you know what will happen?"

My days of lying were long since past and I didn't really want to fib to the kid who was supposed to be my best friend forever. For that was what Percy had told me. Second to last carriage, first compartment, and whoever sits with you will be a friend for life. Weasley tradition since his great grandfather's time, and his dad sat there first and his mum joined soon after. All of them had sat in this exact spot on their first trip to Hogwarts and it was a family secret.

"I do know," I admitted, "but I can't say. They want it to be a surprise."

"Okay. Just tell me this. Has anyone ever died from it? 'Cos I can tell you right now I won't be able to best a troll unless it's about knee high."

"No. But last year one boy fainted and the year before someone sicked up, it was awful."

The nine hour journey passed too fast. Then we were in the boats, breathing in awe at the sight of the castle, and all too soon lined up outside the Great Hall by Professor Moody. I still say he's why the boy fainted. The kids bunched together in fright at the scarred man and he grinned wickedly. The ghosts passed through us right on cue and my new friend clutched my hand. I nearly told him it was going to be just a hat right there and then, but the doors opened and it did not matter any more for he could see it for himself.

"Bloody hell, that was awful," he whispered once the song had finished. We watched as Jennifer Adams was called forward and the hat fell over her eyes. Hufflepuff. "So we are agreed, yeah? Slytherin?" he asked.

"Yes." Up at the teacher's table Dad sat between Poppy and Minerva, and when he caught me looking he gave a small smile. I straightened up. "Slytherin. You can ask the hat what you want, but if you're somewhere else we will still be friends."

"Won't be as much fun if we don't share a dorm though. Midnight feasts and all that, Mum was in a boarding school and she said the best part was no parental supervision…" He followed my gaze. "Uh… but your Dad looks alright."

Poor kid. I don't know when last I had been awake at midnight, but nodded anyway. Between Poppy and Dad any feast we managed to have will have to be fruit at nine o'clock, best not to say it now.

"Jamie Oliver!" Moody called, and Jamie trotted forward, nearly forgetting he had been holding my hand. _Slytherin_. He threw me a thumbs up and jogged to the cheering green and silver table.

Three more kids, then at long last. "Albus Snape!"

Afterwards I would never remember walking to the stage and sitting down on the small stool.

"Good luck, laddie," Moody said, plonking the hat on my head.

This was it. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Please don't send me back, please don't send me back!"

_Back where—ah, our little Insert. About time we met._

"Please don't send me home!"

_Isn't home the Dungeons by now, Albus Snape? You've been part of this world since you took your first breath in this very hall, and the only place I send the first years to is their new Hogwarts' House. Now, we have a sorting to do, where shall I put you?_

"Please be Slytherin! Please be Slyther—"

"Slytherin!"

Huh. Just like that? I clamped my fingers around the hat's brim lest Moody pluck it off. "Are you not supposed to try and convince me otherwise? Everyone said I would be in Gryffindor. You didn't even think about it."

_Everyone didn't hear you ask so nicely, little Dumbledore-Snape. You'll do fine anywhere you're put, after all, you've managed well enough so far._

I removed the hat in a daze and turned to the teacher's table, searching out Bat Dad. Dad's eyebrows were raised to high heaven yet again, he was starting to get eyebrow raising wrinkles, but no one else looked surprised. Farther down the table Percy was clapping loudly, smiling wide, and Moody gave me an encouraging push from behind towards my House table.

Finally! School!

* * *

The End.

Thank you for reading!


End file.
